The sadness of fall

You expected to be sad in the fall. Part of you dies each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and the cold, wintry light. But you knew there would always be the spring, as you knew the river would flow again after it was frozen. When the cold rains kept on and killed the spring, it was as though a young person had died for no reason.

Ernest Hemingway

I don’t think I have SAD, or if I do, it’s a very mild variety. All I know is that when the fall comes around, my mind goes into overdrive, pushing me into a place where I analyze my place in the world.

Maybe it’s because school always started in the fall, or that autumn ushers away long, sunny days, but fall always brings about an analytical side of me and a sense of urgency for spring to arrive.

The combination of being in Nashville (where fall is much more obvious than here), seeing and saying goodbye to my girlfriend and brother far too quickly, a few dark nights and a few weights I carry on my shoulders, this time of year has arrived.

It feels like sitting in a dark room just after twilight; that period of time when you’re wrapped up in a book in an empty house, the sun is going down and it’s just getting to the point where you need to turn on a light or start a fire to continue reading. It’s comfortable, but slightly off-center. There’s a sense of loneliness, but while still knowing there is company a room away.

For me, fall has a soundtrack. mewithoutYou’s second and third albums, Ryan Adams’s Love is Hell, Neko Case, Joshua James. They’re all sad, full of thought and despair, looking back on better times.

I know this seems dark, but I welcome this every year. It’s a part of who I am, and it’s the one emotional season I am guaranteed to experience year by year, regardless of the circumstances.

Is there anyone else who feels the sadness of fall?