A Love Letter to October
There’s plenty of folklore surrounding the month of October. People believe it’s the most magical time of the year. We get swept up in the changing of colours, the cozy socks and sweaters, the hustle and bustle of farmers’ markets. Our perception is clouded by the aroma of pumpkin spice. We’re resting fake tombstones on our lawns and plastic skeletons on our door hangings. We’re scavenging any and all thrift stores in search of the perfect Halloween costume. It’s a strange and spooky time of year, that’s for sure. But is it really as wonderful as the poets claim?
Confession: When I sat down to write this piece, I was convinced I hated October. It gets dark far too early in the evening and it’s still dark when I wake up in the morning. It rains most days with nary a break in the clouds. More often than not, dead leaves are wet and muddy and a mess to avoid instead of an oh-so satisfying crunch beneath boots. But the more I reflected on this strange season, the more I asked: who am I fooling? I love October.
October is the crimson month. I used to think the word ‘vibrant’ only referred to the basic primary colours, but October embraces a darker palette and manages to create the most vibrant time of year. It’s bold. It’s fiery. It’s alive. The trees are dressed in their autumnal best – maroon, burnt orange, mustard yellow and, on a rare occasion, deep plum – one last hurrah before turning in for a long restful winter. We should take our cue from autumn leaves, who embrace change with confidence and grace. They know when to shine and they know when to let go.
October allows us to enjoy the best of both worlds. The blazing heat is behind us, but the bitter cold has not yet made an appearance. The crisp air is a refreshing change from the humidity. People have started lighting their fireplaces and I catch whiffs of smoke as I walk down the street. In the late afternoons, I sit comfortably outside wearing flannel and a pair of fingerless gloves, sipping hot apple cider and enjoy homemade soup that has been simmering in the Crock-Pot all day. Come the evening hours, I turn on the twinkle lights and wrap myself in my favourite blankets I’ve missed so much, nestle into the couch and watch Tim Burton Movies.
Spooky season ignites my creativity like no other season can. It feels like we are given permission to step outside of the box. To stretch ourselves and twist the straight lines into new shapes. We are encouraged to play and expand our curiosity. A simple thing like falling leaves becomes a magical phenomenon. Full moons bring forth our wildest dreams and we revel in their release. Fears we normally shy away from are welcomed. I do not presume to understand why we behave this way in October. Perhaps we all need a season to release our inner child and let our imagination run rampant. Whatever the reason, to quote Anne Shirley, I am so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.
