Autumn crawled in. Until a few days ago I would wake up in the morning and open wide the windows to let the crisp morning air in, I would walk barefoot in the house and choose wisely the lightest clothes in the wardrobe.
Then one morning it silently came in. I recognized its shadow in the cold bedroom air, which pushes you under the blankets looking for a hug and some human warmth. My dog Noa used to sleep on the ground, tucking her head underneath the bed to escape any single ray of light, while now she curls up on the rug, a happy furry white cloud.
Now you wake up, open the window and you are freezed, hanging in the balance, undecided whether to remain there to admire the mist slowly thinning out or getting into a warmer pullover and brewing some tea or coffee. In the evening, after a long working day, I carve out a few moments to spend outside, to soak in the last light and warmth. The air is already crisp and thin, but it’s my favourite way to reconnect with Nature.
Colours change suddenly: it’s not the foliage which is telling a new story about a late Autumn, it’s the light, warmer and smooth. I rummage the wardrobe in search of colours and fabrics which can suit this new smoothness, a thicker cotton, my favourite wool cardigan, a red-purple warm hug.
Autumn brought also a new self-awareness: I wish to have a better care of myself, so after more than two years I decided it was time to sign up again for an annual gym membership, which will accompany me to burn out porcini risotto, Christmas cookies, Carnival fritters, Easter chocolate up to gelato during next summer.
Even my pantry is welcoming the news season as every year.