f(a)ll'in.

As a Canadian, and unless you've been afforded the luxury of travelling to an exotic destination island on a whim, one really has no choice but to accept (and begrudgingly adapt to) the somewhat bipolar four seasons of the calendar year. Some seasons seem to pass by in the blink of an eye, and some seem to linger around for what seems like an eternity.

Seasonal love is really quite subjective, depending on who you ask...

Some people yearn for an endless winter, chalk full of fresh powdery snow, frosted-over windows and crisp frigid air. And to you, literally cold-hearted "Elsas" without a cause (yes, that was a Frozen reference, so let it goooo!), I throw my daggered stares and side-eyes directly at you. I also kindly invite you to pay my hydro bill and purchase my winter tires during those viciously traumatizing months. Ice was meant for rum & cokes, people! Not for the roads!

Some of you adore the signs of spring. Aww, you're cute. Green grass returning from the abyss. Birds chirping gleefully in the morning. The sun extending its 15 minutes of fame after being overshadowed by winter's encore. Sporadic April showers that bring May flowers. It's all unicorns & rainbows until that first atrocious whiff of manure hits you in the nostrils. Add to that the bitch-ass-ness that is the dreaded "pothole season", which wreaks unforgiving havoc on those of us who own a set of wheels. And, what better way to accentuate a season than with a constant stream of runny noses and watery, itchy eyes due to allergies? Not to mention having to watch our step for worms after a heavy rainfall. Gross. Ughhh... spring. Can't we just fast forward you and leap right into summer???

Now, to my summer-lovers (and I know there are a legion of you)... I get it. The everlasting days and rays of sunshine, the tans, the short summer bobs, beach day bbq's. What's not to love, right? Well, waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in your own sweat due to humidity is nothing to write home about. Men's feet in hiking sandals? I mean. Need I say more or... am I the only person who finds this to be an attack on my person? What about girls and women who take their summer-time wardrobe entirely too far, by wearing what basically constitutes a bra and panty set, but claiming that they're just short shorts and a crop-top? (But, then... why can I literally see your ovaries and areolas without trying, girl?) And, to that end, let's not mention the increased rate of unwanted cat-calling that seems to ensue whenever less layers of clothing are involved. I mean, I get that with summer comes heat, but must we really act like animals IN HEAT the minute someone half-clothed & fine enters our view? Summer: you're hot & all, but I think we're better off as friends. It's not you, it's me... But it's mainly you.

Enter fall. My lover. My beautiful, beautiful balance of excitement and comfort. I adore you. I love that you're a bit of a shit-disturber from a fashion perspective. The wonderful mixes of denims, over-sized scarves, Aztec prints, overcoats, corduroy bottoms and funky footwear that comes with your presence, is just eye-gasmic! My cravings for a warm, mildly spiced homemade chili start to pronounce themselves more when you come around. Waking up to a view of the leaves dancing in the wind and transforming themselves from green to red, and every shade and hue in between... Fall, you're a gorgeous and majestic little thing. And what's more... You've got the substance to back it up.

You evoke a feeling of transformation and creativity. You stand for boldness and expression. You allow us time to mentally prepare for the shit-storm that is Old Man Winter. You surprise us with a plethora of new fall programming on TV. You bring with you "Endless Shrimp" at our local Red Lobsters. And, as if all that wasn't already enough, you prove your generosity, once more, by gifting us all with an extra hour of your precious company every single year. You're a giver, fall... and I dig that about you.

Truth be told, I may be biased because I am a child of the fall (Libra crew, stand up!); and so naturally... I find myself drawn to all its quirks and balances. But, c'mon friends... You can't tell me there isn't something inexplicably amazing about the fall. I mean... Which other season gets not one name, but two?

Whether you call it fall or autumn, it is basically the Drake of all four seasons. It starts off, unassuming and wholesome, like wheel-chair Jimmy (see Degrassi). Disturbs the peace a little bit, with its subtle & well-crafted turning of leaves, flowing seamlessly in the wind. Pulls you in with catchy hook after catchy hook of season premieres, and then... BAM! One day, you wake up and it's turned into this no-nonsense, indestructible force called winter; and all that you're left with is a nice little "Thank Me Later" on your pillow to remember it by.

Let's face it, y'all. The season of "Aubrey Autumn" is basically upon us, and should not to be toyed with, but be celebrated!

So, take heed... and "Take Care";)

 

Shaolin Says 

Shaolin "J" Style

Ontario

Creative writer. Professional ranter. Canadian-born. Caribbean blood. Probably the worst introvert you'll ever meet.