My favourite time of year would have to be Autumn.
And if I have to specify a month, it would definitely be April.
Well, summer is great – the sweet scent of sunscreen in the air, long days, warm nights, a general buzz of excitement, especially here in Cape Town. But there’s also something strangely melancholic about it. Like I can almost feel time slipping through my fingers more acutely. I guess it has something to do with all the big events – year end functions, December holidays, Christmas, my birthday, New Year, all vying for attention and reminding me that another year has passed… and a new one’s on its way and… am I ready?
Winter. I have nothing against it. In fact, I love rainy days and dramatic mists over the sea and the foghorn blaring into the night. I enjoy being outdoors – especially in Newlands Forest or on Betty’s Bay’s beach – on the clear days and feeling my nose and cheeks go rosy from the bite in the air. But by August, it starts getting old.
Spring. It’s pretty, but it causes havoc in my sinuses, which in turn causes havoc in my happiness.
So, autumn it is. Has been. Always will be.
Because autumn is like a perfectly prepared cup of coffee first thing in the morning. It’s like taking a bite of your favourite desert after not having eaten it for ages. Like still being in love years and years and years down the line.
Deeply satisfying and glorious and wholesome and beautiful in the way things are beautiful when they don’t really care if you noticed them or not.
There are rainy days a-plenty for forest explorations and cuddling; sunny ones that beat even the brightest mid-December beach day and all the pollen is graciously gone, replaced by rich red and orange an yellow all around.
It’s easy to breathe deeply. If you know what I mean.