Autumn Leaves

New England is known for a few things, red covered bridges, maple syrup, giant snowstorms, quaint small towns, and autumn. Everyone talks about autumn in New England, a New England autumn, a small town autumn, a Gilmore Girls autumn. And there is a good reason for that.

Autumn is the season made for New England. In New England Autumn sings, or in Autumn New England sings. 
    
​The leaves change a million shades of red, gold, and orange. Pumpkins begin appearing everywhere from farm stands to grocery stores to front-porches. Pick-your-own apple orchards are overrun with families, and every small business comes up with autumn themed things to celebrate and profit from the season.

I kind of don’t think autumn in New England is that much different from autumn anywhere else. We all talk about the same activities, the hayrides, the corn mazes, and the fairs and festivals. The things we do in autumn don’t differ all that much, but it’s the spirit of autumn that makes autumn in New England more to people than just the dramatic changing of the leaves.
    
Autumn is something we as cold, anti-social New Englanders can all agree on. It’s our season, a time that belongs to us and only us. No one in the world experiences it the way that we do. This is the time of year when we can show off what we have, our bakeries and farmstands and leaves. Tourist season comes the first few weeks of October, this is when the leaf peepers from all over the world come to peep at the leaves. I think this term for these foreigners is fitting, they come to catch what small glimpses of the leaves they can. They revel in it and squeal about how everything about it all is from their favorite autumnal franchise. Not that we New Englanders don’t do the same, but to us, the leaves say more.
    
Whereas our visitors come to see the leaves in glory, we see them throughout the year. We stay when they turn brown and fall to the ground and have to be raked and bagged. We watch as piles of leaves get sucked up by long hosed trucks. We see the skeleton arms of the trees in winter, and watch as they glisten covered in ice.
    
We watch as slowly small buds of green come again in the spring, bursting into shades and shades of green. We are here when the summer storms come, snapping the leaf laden branches from the trees. 
    
So we appreciate it all the more when the ice melts, and the violent winds stop and the colors start to change.
    
We aren’t just here for the highlight, we’re here for the long haul.
    
The moments when the trees aren’t beautiful aren’t to be despised. Even when the trees are bare there is growth happening inside and under the ground.
    
​The trees are growing and changing and falling and snapping and waiting.

Just like you, my love.

Somedays you won’t see the autumn leaves, somedays all you’ll see is a girl who fell asleep last night crying. Sometimes you won’t see a wonderful, lovable human being, but a girl who doesn't know what to do or where to go next. Some days you’ll feel like you’re stuck in an endless rhythm, that no change will ever come. And some days you’ll be terrified of the change, wondering if it’s worth it at all.
    
And people will say things, they will comment on your insecurities, they won’t believe in your dreams the way you do. They’ll be quick to lavish compliments on your best days, and quick to tear you down on your worst.
    
But even when the storms whip your branches around, and the ice encircles you, and lightning hits too close for comfort, remember this darling, Autumn is coming.
    
In due time people will see your true beauty, they will marvel at how far you’ve come. And you’ll look at yourself and smile and realize that all of that struggling was worth it. Autumn has come, your leaves have changed, and that change is magical and beautiful. 
    
There will always be someone there to cheer you on as you go through this metamorphosis. And there will always be those who think they know better. Remember, the leaf peepers don’t see you through your hardest days, but the locals do.
    
​Autumn has come, and she is beautiful.

Belle Thomas

Belle is the writer and dreamer behind An Old Fashioned Girl. She is passionate about reminding girls of their identity in Christ, classic books, history, Louisa May Alcott, and earl grey tea. ​