Pam Webb

a writer's journey as a reader

Archive for the tag “fall”

Word Nerds: Adding some seasonal nomenclature to the weather outside


Photo by Designecologist on Pexels.com

Although the temperature read 80 degrees the other day my trees are shedding their leaves like a toddler peeling her clothes off in order to be unfettered and free. It’s fall. That time of year when we pull on a sweater leaving the house and pull it off by midafternoon. The nights are cooler, the days are warmish. The weather is fickle. September remains my favorite seasonal month for all those reasons–it’s an unexpected month.

But is it Fall or is it fall? A quick trip to Dictionary.com is needed.

When applied as a title or is being personified, like in the poem below seasonal words are capitalized, otherwise use lower case.

Autumn Thoughts
by John Greenleaf Whittier

Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers,
And gone the Summer’s pomp and show,
And Autumn, in his leafless bowers,
Is waiting for the Winter’s snow.

I said to Earth, so cold and gray,
‘An emblem of myself thou art.’
‘Not so,’ the Earth did seem to say,
‘For Spring shall warm my frozen heart.’
I soothe my wintry sleep with dreams
Of warmer sun and softer rain,
And wait to hear the sound of streams
And songs of merry birds again….

Wait, Mr. Whittier used Autumn instead of Fall. Is there a difference? Actually the terms are interchangeable; however, there are slight nuances.

The word “autumn” is French, being derived from autompne and is traced back to the late 1300s. Chaucer and Shakespeare applied the word in their works. Brits tend to use “autumn” while Americans refer to “fall” which came into use around the 1800s.

Fall being the third season is recorded in use in the 1500s, with thoughts that it referred to “leaf fall,” which makes sense since leaves are falling right and left come September. In some cases “fall” is more useful than “autumn.” For instance, “Spring forward, autumn back,” just doesn’t have the same mnemonic ring.

I tend to say “fall” as “autumn” is much more serious sounding and I think more of how November leads into winter rather than September’s stretch of sunny days. Although I can see why Miss Emily D. chose “Autumn” for her poem instead of “Fall.”

Enjoy those crisp mornings, warmish afternoons, and chilly nights whether you “fall” into the season or apply “autumn” to your wordscape.

Autumn

by Emily Dickinson

The morns are meeker than they were,
The nuts are getting brown;
The berry’s cheek is plumper,
The rose is out of town.

The maple wears a gayer scarf,
The field a scarlet gown.
Lest I should be old-fashioned,
I’ll put a trinket on.

A Falling Out Begins


One absolutely appreciated bonus of retirement is enjoying the mellow fall sunshine. I call September weather my Goldilock Days: not too hot, not too cold—just right.

Previous to retirement (this is my second September!) I would look out of my classroom window and long to be outside. That was one commonality I shared with my students. Although I would try to tie up loose ends and get home to enjoy the remaining afternoon, I usually arrived home only to enjoy a sliver of sun before it slipped behind the mountain. My Verilux light is a poor substitute for that warm, comforting kiss of sunlight.

And so, in these fall days, these post-summer days, these halcyon days of retirement I am found sunning like a marmot on my morning patio, napping on my hammock early afternoon, and lounging on my other hammock in the late afternoon.

Lest you think all I do is lounge around, I am landscaping, cleaning, writing, reading, and stacking wood throughout the day.

Unfortunately my Goldilocks time is ending. I used to go for my morning walk by 7 am. Lately it’s 49 degrees at that time and the sun is barely up. By 9 am it’s 60 degrees which is acceptable. Just as the perfect temps of mid-seventies arrive the cold nights appear. By 6 pm there is a chill that sends me inside.

Nothing says summer is ending more than the delivery of our winter wood supply. I feel the calendar days tick down when those wood chunks fill the bins.

Two cords strong

One aspect of full wood bins is knowing I will be cozy warm by the fire reading books and sipping cocoa. For now I’m still reveling in late summer before I fall into winter.

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