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Spring Fever In Autumn//October 357th, 2020

 There’s a certain energy that comes with the beginning of autumn for me. 

Once the air starts getting cooler, pumpkins start appearing, neighbors start decorating, and the world starts smelling of pumpkin and apple, I feel myself bursting at the seams.

Though I know it’s impractical, I am suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to everything at once. I want to go on spooky adventures, spend hours at a time outside, try on costumes, photograph every spooky piece of decor I own then go shop for more, drink all the pumpkin spice lattes, etc., all in the matter of a few seconds.

It’s a feeling that I think most people would refer to as “spring fever”, but I’ve always gotten mine in autumn.

For some, autumn is viewed as a season of death. But for me, it’s always what breathes new life into me, and I’m never more alive than I am during this time of year, particularly as it begins.

I asked myself today, why the beginning of autumn sends me into more of a frenzy than the actual celebration of Halloween itself. And the answer is simpler than I realized.

The beginning of autumn comes to me like a gift in fancy wrappings. It’s a promise of new and exciting things to come, like a road stretched out before me on the way to a new adventure. It’s as if that cool breeze, that I’ve waited for all summer long, whispers to me, ‘your time has come’, and suddenly the world illuminates, and the clock starts ticking on enjoying my favorite time of year once more.

But like all clocks, this one does keep moving, and as excited as I always am to celebrate the actual day of Halloween and the things that come with it, it’s also bittersweet.

I truly am like a pumpkin, who withers away every year when November hits, and doesn’t fully re-emerge until those first signs of autumn. 

The end of autumn is melancholy. Beautiful but tragic in its way, as the leaves turn bare and the colors fade, and Halloween and all that goes with it, goes back into its box, at least to the majority of people, for another year.

But the start of autumn is like a blank page, waiting to be filled with the most exciting, spooky stories. The book may be shorter than we’d like, but we are there now, and it’s dying to be written, by those of us who know how to enjoy it to the fullest.

Stay spooky, my friends.

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