The Different Faces of Fall: Autumn Around the World

I have always loved autumn.

Growing up in the mid-east region of South Africa, the humidity was brutal. Walls and tiled floors “sweated” as the oppressive moisture settled all around us. As autumn set in, the condensation lessened and the clammy feeling that enveloped our bodies eased.

The temperatures dropped and afternoons around the swimming pool became more enjoyable. Nights were more comfortable as open windows brought in cooler breezes helping us drift into sleep.

Easter came with its brightly coloured eggs and promises of a white rabbit delivering candy. The stinkwoods turned yellow and dropped their leaves while pine trees loosened the grip on their needles and cones. We crunched through the dry foliage as we prepared for the cold KwaZulu-Natal winter nights.

Moving to Australia in my mid-thirties, the summer brought a harsh dry heat, stifling despite the absence of dampness in the air. The only relief was the Fremantle Doctor, a cooling afternoon sea breeze that came off the ocean and up through the port of Fremantle. The wind offered a reprieve from the intensity of the sun much as a doctor would to ease pain.

Late autumn finally brought cooler temperatures and a calm settled in the city as the heat subsided. People started to relax as the busyness of the summer settled and preparations were made for winter. Some concerts and festivals lingered as we relaxed on picnic blankets in parks and beaches watching the sun set.

Although fleeting, it was always my favourite time of year. The air was crisp, evenings required a light sweater, and the constant sheen of sweat was absent from our grateful bodies.

In late 2017, I headed to San Antonio, Texas just in time for their autumn season. The city is a little inconsistent in the fall, days of stifling Texas heat were intermingled with cooler days as sublime temperatures caressed our skins.

Walks through the many parks and reserves dotted about the city vacillated between exhausting and invigorating as the weather gods played their game of climate chess. One morning I would wake to the black rook creating an incredible autumn day only to be ousted by the white queen a day later as she increased the temperature and caused havoc.

The back-and-forth continued into the winter and I never quite knew what clothes I would need on any given day. The saving grace of the Texas fall, however, was Halloween and Thanksgiving. Orange, brown, yellow, and red decorations sprouted up in shops and on porches and yards, while discounted bags of candy lit up children’s eyes as their parents dragged them past the store displays begging for treats.

And then came Canada.

I had never seen an autumn with such beauty. Fall in the Great White North is a feast for the senses. Sweaters come out, pumpkin spice makes its return, hay bales and straw people adorn porches, and our worlds explode into colour.

The beauty that surrounded me as the leaves turned from green into bright reds, oranges, and yellows was truly breathtaking. I looked much like a tourist in New York City as I craned my neck to stare up at the trees towering above me, marvelling at the array of colours as they boasted their presence each time I stepped out of my front door.

Taking a walk in the local forest, my eyes danced as I scanned the vista of trees in various stages of their cycle from yellow to orange and finally exploding into a red wave. It was as if a Divine hand had swept across the scene with a magic paintbrush.

Although I ached for the red explosion, it was the yellow that glowed golden as the morning sun kissed the leaves atop the trees as I looked out of my basement apartment windows every morning, sipping a hot cup of coffee and feeling blessed.

Apart from the colours of the changing trees, much of my joy in the season was to be found in the decorations that sprang to life around Canadian neighbourhoods. It didn’t take long for folks to adorn their porches and front yards with pumpkins and straw people. Giant inflatable Halloween characters danced in the chilly air as children ran around giggling as they chased each other through the makeshift Disneyland.

Nearby ranches put the finishing touches on their adventure farms and opened them to children of all ages. Pumpkin patches glowed in the afternoon sun as happy people wandered through them picking the gourds they wished to take home and carve into Jack o’ lanterns.

Families gathered for Thanksgiving feasts and then a few weeks later, wandered around neighbourhoods dressed in a variety of costumes as the kids begged candy from strangers.

Photo by Bee Felten-Leidel on Unsplash

And throughout it all was the presence of pumpkin everything. Lattes, muffins, and doughnuts were spiced with pumpkin. Candles sent wafts of the spice into the air and replicas of the orange gourds were turned into mugs, plates, napkins and the like.

And let’s not forget the pie. Oh, sweet pumpkin pie! My friends know how much I love the pie. Pumpkin or sweet potato, my stomach always has space for a slice of something orange baked in a pie dish.

Football reigned supreme on Sunday afternoons and Saturday nights were for firepits as they spat and crackled. Friends came over and laughter filled the air as marshmallows were toasted and added to chocolate and Graham crackers for delicious s’mores.

In the Great White North, fall is an event. A glorious combination of everything that makes me feel blessed. A true feast for the senses. From the explosion of colours to the smell of marshmallows toasting. From the taste of pie to the sound of football commentators. From the feelings of happiness as friends gather around a cracking firepit to the sounds of their laughter filling the air, it is here that my soul comes alive.

Happy Fall Y’all!

Please feel free to buy me a coffee if you like what you read.