Listen (3:28)
September 22, 2025
At exactly 2:19 PM EST this afternoon, it will be autumn in my neck of the woods. Opinions vary regarding the official start and end of the season, of course, as astronomical fall is based on Earth's position relative to the sun, and meteorological fall is defined by the annual temperature cycle and the calendar. However, the September 1st celebrators should face no detractors, as, admittedly, it’s perhaps a better way to situate the season in our not-as-evolved-as-we-think-we-are brains properly. Although easy to forget in this Oat Milk Pumpkin Spice Latte Supermarket Age, our earliest autumn rituals universally reflected humanity's reliance on the land, gratitude for the harvest, and traditions meant to ensure survival and prosperity through the winter.
Fertility rituals, secret rites, and pig sacrifices were on order at Greece’s Thesmophoria during the 11th century B.C.E. Ceres was the most propitiated divinity in ancient Rome during Ceralia, celebrated with plenty of feasting after the harvest. Moon worship and lanterns were typical during the Zhou dynasty in China, while folks in Neolithic Western Europe and the Celtic nations dressed in special costumes and made sacrifices to the Mother Goddesses, drinking from wooden vessels, animal horns, and bell beakers into the small hours. There was a time, even in recent history, when humans were deeply connected to and in tune with their earth. One reason was that a staggering number of people did not survive the winters, and the more autumns one experienced, the more that sank in, and the better they became at preparedness.
That’s why I used to wonder how our ancestors handled seasonal changes within themselves. After all the foraging, collecting, bundling, and protecting food for the months ahead, what was going on in their hearts and minds? There would be doubt and worry, to be sure, but what about the bigger picture, the future, and their place in it? Amid the changing light, a shift in the habits of animals, the temperature drop, and a denuding landscape, what was happening to them? It took quite some time to realize that I couldn’t even begin to approach this thought exercise with any rigor until I found the escape hatch from those Oat Milk Pumpkin Spice Latte components of our modern predicament. Blue 1 and Yellow 5 didn't create the green I was aiming for, but they did cause hyperactivity and severe allergic reactions to things like going outside.
When I do go outside in the autumn, I feel the most engaged inside, more so than at any other time of year. It’s both an acknowledgement of life’s cycles and an opportunity to reflect on symbolism across cultures, past and present, beyond my historically privileged status as someone with shelter and access to sustenance with minimal effort. Autumn is a time of change, letting go, and enjoying abundance before winter's quiet, with the falling leaves serving as a potent metaphor for releasing old habits, preparing for rest, and accepting impermanence as part of life's cycle. This season encourages introspection and emotional readiness for future challenges, as nature itself slows down and prepares for renewal. Perhaps this grateful grounding stems from an increasing shift of awareness, a progression from being an audience of nature to realizing that we are all simply one component of it.