autumnatic.

Calendars were not invented on “day 1”. That’s what I thought as a kid - that if you wanted to know how old “calendars” were, you just counted backward from, well, now until you were back at 1. Then I remembered about all that “B.C.” time, and then… I just looked it up. The Gregorian Calendar, which we purchase each year on sale in mid-January in the Barnes and Noble bargain section, was created in 1582. The Julian calendar that it replaced had begun in 45 B.C., and there is apparently a calendar in Africa from 8000 B.C.. Calendars are great, but they bother me. The human race celebrates specific holidays because of where they are on the calendar, not in alignment with the sun or the stars anymore. Our birthdays mark the beginning of our personal year. Thanksgiving is celebrated the third Thursday in November. Easter is a bit more organic, as it’s the first Sunday after the Spring Equinox, a specific scientific circumstance (once I did the experiment where you balance an egg on its end EXACTLY at the moment of the Spring Equinox - it stayed there for 90 seconds and then fell over - couldn’t get it to do it again - science is cool). So calendars define days, but do not dictate the seasons. I think this includes the Holiday seasons, as they are not tied to the calendar - “Christmastime” used to begin the day after Thanksgiving, or the moment that Santa waved from his sleigh in the Macy’s Parade, but is now shifting steadily backward - last year the first Netflix holiday princess movie was released well before Thanksgiving, though I was expressly forbidden by my daughter to watch it until the appropriate time. Folks are open to begin their Christmastime whenever they choose - defined by stores being decorated, holiday music being played on the radio, or Hans Gruber plummeting from Nakatomi Plaza. But we’re not quite there yet. Our first stop is Autumn (keeper of Spookytime™), which for me always begins with a mystery. Fall officially starts on the Autumn Equinox, but we all recognize that cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, ginger, and mace define summer’s end. “Pumpkin spice lattes” were introduced in 2003: those smart enough to invest in the odd new trend probably profited like crypto bandits, as millions of folks enthusiastically associated it with the shift of seasons. But similar to Christmastime, the official date that Pumpkin Spice Everything is introduced each year keeps getting pushed earlier and earlier, moving from mid-September back to mid-August. I mean, who doesn’t enjoy a gourd-based beverage, but I choose not to recognize this indicator. Autumn is my favorite season. I was born in Autumn. I love the Autumn weather. I’ve always looked best in sweaters, which have subtlety bulked up my scrawny “Steve Rogers Before The Super Serum” frame, annually allowing me well defined (although pillowy soft) shoulders. Autumn means a lot to me, and cannot be defined by corporate trend. I truly love the season, and the best part is, I never know exactly when it’s going to get here. …there’s a day every year when the wind changesthe humidity dissipates entirelyreplaced by this wonderful snap in the air an exhale is not yet visiblebut inhaling becomes fresh and the smell of leaves and the sound of them all on the streetssomehow insulates cars passing by this is my beginning of Autumn and once THIS mysterious day happens afternoons don’t warm up anymoreso you really need that extra layer of clothesand you’re very glad you remembered your hatand to be honest you could actually appreciate a nice hot beverage in a paper cup with a derivative of your name written on it that day is the perfect timefor a nice, hot cup of coffee embellished with the flavor of a seasonal gourd. Get full access to :lowerblackpain at lowerblackpain.substack.com/subscribe