D’automne Love

The recognition of smell is an immediate response and contains the ability to make emotional connections encoded in your brain. There exists that one fragrance that really touches your heart a little different, impelling your soul to ache for a moment of time. The returning to a juncture that only exists for you.

As I was sitting here tonight in Tennessee right at the end of October, I could feel fall. Out in the dark, sky full of stars, and I caught the smell of a familiar crisp in the air instantly taking me back to the days when I ran barefoot until it was too cold to bear.

I took a slow deep breath through my nose and closed my eyes and suddenly I was there. That little girl in northern New England where the air is inebriating. Its that clean, fresh, invigorating air that seems to make you forget that summer was barely over.

Bright intoxicating colors painted the lives of those who appreciate the beauty that is gifted to them once a year. The smell of wood-stoves and apple pie candles burning as we adjust to the short daylight. Taking for granted the orange and pink sunset as it starts to melt into the trees mixing endless shades of warm and comforting vibrance.

The wind blowing through my awfully long blond stringy and tangled hair as I exhaust myself spending all day outside until the first star would appear in the sky. These are the days that remain branded in my childhood. My siblings, cousins and neighborhood kids laughing and playing, while piles and piles of leaves sit raked up in every yard. It was only a matter of time before a rake was put in my hands.

My grandfather would spend hours raking huge piles of leaves just for us to jump in and hide, cover up with the leaves. The smell of the dry leaves WAS what fall smelled like. I was in love. In love with the way fall makes me feel. I wish time would stand still; absorbing the energy and apprize for just a moment, the beauty that blankets the souls of existence.

For some, the year is coming to an end and it seems that the people of New England have more to do than ever. Shopping and planning and stacking wood for the long winter ahead. Turkeys are being prepared, and trees are being cut down for decoration.

For me, it feels like a new beginning. Fall is like a season of cleansing; with every leave that loses its aptness to survive, and graciously drifts to the ground while perpetuating its highest form of beauty. Basking in the memories that shaped my amorous buzz from one of trillions of possible aromas.

Motivation for new habits and new beginnings start to tantalize my insatiable desire for fulfillment. There is magic sparking in the creative realms of my thoughts. Intriguing possibilities of what never seen before destinations await my transcendence. A time for reflection and making peace with unfinished parts of yourself.

Every year, no matter where I am, when the air is exactly right, when fall creeps in on that first night and sends a familiar chilly shiver down your legs. The air with that perfect amount of crisp nostalgia, transforms me into her again.