“For I am about to do something new. See, I have already begun! Do you not see it? I will make a pathway through the wilderness. I will create rivers in the dry wasteland.” Isaiah 43:19
Each year, Autumn sees the trees magically transform from green to golden hues and shed their leaves. There is a distinct change of scent in the air, a new dampness and particular coolness that prevents us from leaving the house without the addition of protective layers. The transition seems seamless, almost like moving from one scene of a film to another, however, although we expect this transition each year, it always comes as a slight surprise. The early days of the season dawning often prompt discussions on which of us like Autumn. As the season progresses, we start to enjoy seasonal highlights like harvest festivals and the warming call of soup and hot drinks filled with spices.
As the journey into Autumn begins, we may look back regretfully on the last days of summer with a feeling of wistfulness, as the light and long evenings are lost and we move into the cold months ahead. The artist Vivien Zhang explores the influence of collective memory and the experience of our phones on how we remember events. Sometimes, her work argues, the cataloguing of events in thousands of pictures on our phones means that we don’t remember the real events, but rather the second-hand images of them. However, the seasonal change with its adjustment to light, temperature and the sounds of nature give us an opportunity to exist in every moment and be present.
It seems that, just as with all changes, the one that begins the new season acts like a reminder to stop and look. Thanks to technology, we live in a constant state of being switched on, rather like wandering through an information minefield. We are fully distracted by the next ping or notification that our phone gives us. It results in an anxiety that we all collectively feel. It comes with an unspoken suggestion that embracing uncertainty is scary. However, by embracing uncertainty and allowing ourselves to host the moment, recognise our feelings, dig deep and seek the guidance that nature bestows, we might find joy in simple things. There is certainly joy to be found in the beauty of nature but also in even smaller things, like a bird hovering on a tree, a squirrel delicately nibbling a nut or ducks doing somersault dives into the water.
There is something about Autumn that helps us hold still and look inwards, particularly as more time is spent indoors. In conjunction with trees shedding their leaves in preparation for winter hibernation, we could do the same. Perhaps seasonal change also allows us to take time from the busyness of a social calendar that’s more encouraged by warm weather.
But when considering hibernation, where do we start? Perhaps one way could be with the intention to find peaceful respite and be more disciplined in where we give our attention. That respite might be found by taking time to enjoy the simplicity of everyday rituals. These actions, often performed without consideration of time, are natural markers of the nights drawing in. These moments can be taken through rituals which draw us to gather together and share time with others. Those little ceremonies are just part of daily nourishment and unwinding can be found through spending time cooking or setting the tone of the evening by lighting a fire, not only for its obvious warmth but the sense of rest and the ability to gaze. Those moments give us the opportunity to transcend what might concern us day to day and commune with the universe and nature. In these gentler moments, perhaps we may have the opportunity to notice the simple things that we can all give gratitude for.
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Read about the well-being benefits of wood-burning stoves to help you navigate the changing seasons