I’m usually the first person to protest the arrival of Autumn. Summer beaches, long days and sunshine, lots and lots of sunshine, are quite literally my favourite things. I’m never quite ready to trade them for shorter days and cooler mornings. And yet, every year, a slow morning in autumn finds a way of winning me over.
There is something about this time of year. The quiet solitude, the softer morning light, the fiery reds, burnt oranges and amber-brown streets that look as though someone has taken a paintbrush to the neighbourhood. The world seems to slow down a little, and I find myself wanting to do the same.
It’s also when I feel most drawn to exploring creative ideas. Perhaps it’s the fewer distractions, or the way the afternoon light finds its way into every corner of the house. I spend more time noticing things, following little curiosities and letting ideas take shape without feeling the need to rush them into something. There’s a certain freedom in that.
This morning, I woke to sunlight twinkling through the trees, casting little moving patterns across the room. I wandered downstairs to the kitchen, made myself a grapefruit with a generous drizzle of date syrup, and found a sunny spot to sit with it. An audiobook by Emma Grede played in the background while I let the morning take its time.
No particular rush to be anywhere. Nothing urgent demanding my attention. Just the warmth of the sun, the sweetness of the date syrup against the tartness of the grapefruit, and a few quiet moments to myself.
It’s a gentle way to begin the day. And perhaps that’s what I love most about autumn. Not necessarily the cooler weather or even the beautiful colours, but the little invitation to slow down, look around and enjoy where you are.
I might always be a summer girl, but autumn is making a very good case for itself.