Autumn is melancholic. It signals the death of nature in the most beautiful colours, with one last burst of vibrance. That’s why I like autumn. The natural world around us shows its temporal existence. Nothing lasts forever. Perhaps it’s that engrained sense of loss within that feels at home in autumn since childhood.
This is the season of truth.
Loyal to melancholy’s disposition, autumn is a paradox. Beautifying death, adorning nature with it’s make-up of colours. Preserving it in memory, like a heart wrenching funeral.
Autumn is chaos. The season of change. It’s odd for a person so scared of change to feel so comfortable in this season of transition. After all change can be a good thing, I have resolved to tackle my fear head on, hoping the wind favours my direction and sailing ahead.
“Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird, I would fly about the Earth seeking successive autumns.” – George Elliot
Words & Photography: Radhika Mary