Pericordial Blues

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#51-WHY I LOVE AUTUMN

Why I love Autumn

Hey everyone!

When I was traveling in India (in my other life, before the illness), I met a young Italian lady, Francesca, who had been living there for three years. She had joined her fiancé there and had not returned to Europe.

It was a bit of a dream for me. A tale of a thousand and one nights. Permanent summer, exoticism, meeting such a different culture.

What was my surprise when she confessed to me that she missed winter. She explained that she had become aware that the cycle of the seasons gave her precious haunts. Having lost all sense of the seasons and the passage of time, it seemed to her that her body was exhausted. There was no more withdrawal, no more renewal. The joy of seeing spring arrive does not exist when there is no more winter.

India is a seasonless country. Apart from the monsoon period when it rains heavily, it is a perpetual summer. The trees lose their leaves one after the other, in no particular order. Throughout the year, you can see, here and there, a tree losing its leaves. Then it turns green again, and another one further on becomes bald. Each at their own pace, without ever becoming uniform with their peers. When we say that India is the country of organized chaos, it is indeed the case!

No winter, no spring, no wonder. No rest either. Francesca explained that she had the impression that her body was exhausted in this perpetual summer and that she dreamed of reliving the rhythm of the seasons as in Italy. As they say in India, there are three climates: hot, hotter and hottest.

Fall is my favorite season for its shimmering colors. I marvel at these landscapes painted in a thousand warm colours. The air is breathable, the heat bearable, the sun and the blue sky magnify the colors of nature and the transparency of the foliage. The rain nourishes the earth which nourishes people and animals. It's funny, but I'm also happy on rainy days.

I like to rest by the fire, or light a candle, wrap myself in a soft blanket, drink a very hot herbal tea and savor this moment when I can anticipate the end of the year celebrations. Giving gifts is my language for showing my love to those I appreciate, and the arrival of the holidays makes me happy.

I understand that some take it badly. One can feel a sense of loss when summer goes away. For some people who have mood problems, autumn represents a real challenge because they find it difficult to get through it.

I know that not everyone gets to experience these simple joys, like walking with delight among the dried leaves to hear their characteristic noise and make them fly through the air. We are all different and everyone has their favorite season. And it's OK!

Of course, the winter and the prolonged night affect me. Especially the cold. But it is worth it because it is also this period that brings us back to spring and this joy of seeing everything reborn.

Autumn is a good metronome of the rhythm of our lives. If one has a happy spirit, one will always find positive, joy and beauty in any season. And that goes for the seasons of life too.

As a child, I was fascinated by the four seasons. The older I get, the more I am fascinated by this clock of the seasons, so well oiled, and I am afraid that it will go haywire.

I love fall, its colorful leaves dancing in the air, which color the paths of thousands of unique designs.

Autumn is my color. For those who know this theory on the harmony of colors based on the seasons, you will understand what I mean if I say that I dress autumn, and my interior is decorated in the colors of autumn. Autumn is the mood that suits me best.

Isn't it fascinating that nature harmonizes its colors?! If we observe a natural landscape, without human interference, or a simple flower, the color palettes are always harmonious, whatever the season. There is no better painter than nature. What an amazing way to celebrate life!

I love all four seasons, but autumn is my favorite!

Happy Fall everyone!

AUTUMN. THE POST SCRIPTUM OF THE SUN. (Pierre VÉRON)

Pericordially yours,

Vali

Automne. Le post-scriptum du soleil. (Pierre VĂ©ron)