"I think that ghosts like the cooler weather..."

I think this weekend, while my kids are out at an early halloween party, that I'm going to take some pictures of the local foliage. Central ontario is a great place to be in the fall (although Western Ontario is pretty breathtaking when you get into the heavy deciduous forests). I say this in spite of the nearly constant rain we've been having over the last week or two.

The constant damp, the cold, it gets into your system. I find myself wanting to eat heavy things, comfort foods with rich sauces, that kind of stick-to-your-ribs stuff that warms you to your depths. Stews, casseroles.

My house has a real haunted house feel to it, beyond the decorations that I've put outside. The stone exterior, the weathered wooden front porch littered with leaves that I have had neither the time nor the motivation to sweep away.

Mornings have gotten darker already, as have the evenings when I leave work. The unrelenting drizzle has left me feeling sweetly melancholy.

I wish for a fire place. A fire place, and clinking crystal glasses filled with lucius red wines served with expensive cheeses and green grapes.

It's a time of heavy cable-knit sweaters and quilted vests and the smell of burning leaves.

Glorious.

I'm looking forward to some sun this weekend to complement October's crisp breezes.

This song is one of my very favorite songs of all time and in my humble opinion, embodies everything I love about Fall, the strange mix of melancholy and contentment and the slow cocooning of oneself in preparation for the Winter. Of harvests and generations past.



You can tell by the wind
By fresh cut wood all stacked to dry
That autumn's here. It makes you sad
About the crummy summer we had
With pine trees creaking
The raven's screeching
Just like the story my grandma tells
About when a bird hits your window
Someone you know is about to die


Autumn's here, autumn's here
It's ok if you want to cry
'cause autumn's here, autumn's here, autumn's here


So find a sweater and you'll be better
Until the kindling is tinder dry
We can be quiet as we walk down
To see the graveyard where they are now
I wonder how they brought their piano
To Holdene Hill from old Berlin
Be hard to keep it well in tune
With winters like the one that's coming soon


Cause autumn's here, autumn's here
It's time to cry now
That autumn's here,autumn's here, autumn's
It's ok if you want to cry
Because autumn's here


I think that ghosts like the cooler weather
When leaves turn colour they get together
And walk along these, these old back roads
Where no one lives and no one goes
With all their hopes set on the railway
That never came and that no one stayed
I guess that autumn gets you remembering
And the smallest things just make you cry.


Autumn's here, autumn's here, autumn's here that autumn's here
Autumn's here, it's time to cry
Cause autumn's here
Autumn's here, autumn's here
It's ok now, cause autumn's here


Autumn's Here - Hawksley Workman