A Bittersweet Reflection on Autumn
- Theodora Exarchos
- Oct 6
- 3 min read
All of a sudden, seven o'clock collides into a chestnut roasted afternoon and you're overheating whilst stumbling out of your lecture chasing the bus that finally takes you home. A three quarters empty cinnamon-pecan-pie latte seized in one hand and an over worked toffee leather tote tugs onto the shoulder seam of your mother’s 90's trench coat.
You’re kicking clusters of aggressively romantic auburn foliage out of your path whilst melting maple sunrays yank your gloomy eyelids shut. A melancholy glazed Mitski chimes, “Autumn comes when you're not yet done with the summer passing by,” - a manifestation delivered through your perpetually tangled headphone wires - the twists and ties imitating the strangled sweetness of the summer's washed away romance.
Yes, it's officially autumn. Your oak desk gloats a marshmallow pumpkin latte and a myrtle green moleskin notebook. However, it still does not distract you from the tension of academic excellence, the craving of a selfish October lover and fear of a fresh start.
As we know, the autumn equinox announces itself with shortened daylight hours, the slow caramelisation of deciduous trees; hedgehogs, bats, and bears surrendering to hibernation, while squirrels and beavers treasure their sugared winter stores. Somewhere in between, university students retire into their Urban Outfitters floral duvet covers and watch all three Twilight films in a single sitting. The inescapable ache to draw back from the uneventful frivolous house warming parties and clumsy awkward bar hopping nights adventures has worsened.
In the early mornings, lecture theatres linger with loops of inertia that seep into unanswered questions. Forgotten pens and notebooks sulk at the bottom of bags. By afternoon, library windows border a bruised afterglow of sky and by night everyone has collapsed into the weight of Autumn.
You return to the carousel of withered bus trails and spiraled out autumn playlists. Seasonal dizziness ascends, as your head knocks against the back of battered bus seats, and you absently stare into nothing. Wondering what is so hard to swallow about autumn. In this way Autumn can bring such an intracellular loneliness.
However, in the drowsy after taste of what feels like a post sugar crash, there is an odd abundance that emerges. A slow releasing clarity is uncovered in the rollover following summertime indulgence. Autumn circulates into our systems like a prescription medicine we never remember taking, side effects including: vertigo, excessive nostalgia, and a dulled taste for sweetness. Yet, clouded within a summer melancholia lies hope, laced in the raindrops of autumn’s drizzly days.
The start of a new academic year rekindles a tentative tradition: once again, trying to make the pottery café a ritual. But, more importantly, it symbolises a bittersweet chance to redefine yourself.
There is a divinity that inhabits a fresh start; the shy stirring of new friendships, a newfound hunger to be greeted by the embrace of belonging.
Summer’s fruit has softened, spoiled and gone to seed, yet autumn offers its own inheritance of pumpkins and root vegetables. It's time to step outward with undisturbed courage and a pair of lace up leather boots. Challenge yourself with trials of development and embrace solitude. And finally, start writing in that journal.
It is also the indulgent time to cut deep into autumn's intimacies: the whiff of cinnamon wafting out a chipped mug, the gloss of rain on darkened pavements, buttercream cafe lights radiating out of the letters of a fresh book. Through the mundanities, craft an inner richness so velvety profound that when winter comes, all icicles will liquify. Like the squirrels and the hedgehogs, fortify the stores of your soul with fibrous depth – and an appetite to turn apathy into strength.
Edited by Hania Ahmed, Creative Editor
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