Can you feel that?

Can you feel that?

I could ask if you could smell it, but it’s not really an olfactory sensation. It’s not really tactile either. It’s something perceived through all the senses, a combined input to your mind that can only be described by the very general word ‘feel’.

Very simply, I’m talking about a change in the seasons. I caught a hint of it last Wednesday with a group of knitters as we sat outside on the patio of Mad Hatter’s Tea. As Katie struggled through her first cast on and I cranked away on the great seed-stitch marathon that is the Monk’s Travel Satchel, I could feel summer receding a bit, uncovering the much more subtle season of autumn.

Summer is the brass section of the orchestra of the year. It’s shiny and dazzling and loud. While it can be smooth and sultry at times, it tends towards an all-out blast of coppery heat that blots out everything else.

Autumn feels more like the strings to me. It lacks summer’s energy, but it brings its own serene, dignified subtlety to the piece. When I stepped out on my balcony this morning to look out over the neighborhood, the cooler, softer morning brought to mind the patient humming of a cello.

Autumn is the season I’ve always identified with the most. Autumn is the perfect time of the year for long, solitary walks under silvery-grey skies, followed by a warm cozy cuddle under old soft blankets. In Autumn, the trees deliberately begin packing away their precious saps and oils in their broad trunks, sacrificing the leaves to the coming cold of Winter so that the whole can survive through until Spring. Autumn balances the remembrance of Summer’s joy with the certainty of Winter’s end.

Autumn, I would think, is the season for knitting. As the temperatures fade, the wool does not feel quite so oppresive in our fingers. It’s no longer a matter of just knowing that Winter is on its way and needs our attention; we can anticipate it now. We feel it coming. And all those thoughts of scarves and mittens and sweaters and socks come back to the front of our minds, insisting we pay attention to them.

I think this will be a good Autumn for my projects. I’m coming along with the satchel nicely, and now that I’ve done one full-size sweater, a second one does not seem so daunting.

No Responses to “Can you feel that?”

  1. Aarlene Says:

    Wow, this post is so poetic!

  2. Stacey Budge Says:

    I am glad the temperatures broke in TX. I would say I felt it too, but all I feel right now is rain. Lots and lots of rain.