The Beauty of Autumn Light: Slowing Down with the Seasons
The light in every season takes on a different quality, yet in autumn, as the trees put on a beautiful display of golden leaves which, one by one, fall gently to the ground, the light feels warmer, like a cosy hug in the ever-darkening days. The sun sinks lower in the sky, and the earlier twilights seem to capture that golden glow with all the zeal of a picture-perfect autumn.
The light falls differently - an ever-quickening dusk - but autumn light also casts shadows. When we choose to live seasonally, we sense more acutely the bittersweet quality of the autumn light - soft and transient - a reminder of impermanence and change. Artists, poets and photographers have long been drawn to this light - for both its warmth and its sense of melancholy.
The Seasonal Invitation: Slowing with the Shortening Days
When we tread gently with soft footsteps, slowly observing the changing seasons, we become aware of these transitions, not just from a visual point of view, but how we interpret change in broader terms. In autumn, as the light feels ever more golden, it also fades. It slows down, and nature slows down with it.
Conversely, the busyness of the modern world, and the fast-paced existence it seems to demand, resist this slowing down. Our lights remain bright, our schedules unchanged, and our minds and bodies as busy as ever. Yet, deep down, we long for those seasonal rhythms - to live in a way which echoes the world outside - the ground on which we stand and feel rooted.
We cannot change the light of each season. Autumn will bring a beautiful golden glow, but it will also bring grey, damp days, and darker nights. Light comes in many colours, echoing nature’s sepia palette. We could fight the changing light - the diminishing daylight hours, the grey days, and the long, dark nights - but how might we live if we embraced it?
How might we honour the changing light, embracing its gifts of stillness, reflection and rest?
Finding Beauty in the Shifting Light: Practical Ways to Slow Down
As I take pen to paper for this journal entry, join me on a journey to discover how we might embrace the changing light of autumn as we head towards winter, and seek to align our hearts, souls and bodies with the sense of slowing down which these seasons gently call us to do.
Notice and Capture the Light
I’ve written many times before about how much Clementine and I enjoy our evening walks. Because we often walk around the same time - 7:30-8:30pm - we see the light change on an almost daily basis. Slowing down to observe this transition grounds us in the season we’re in. Sometimes the shifts in light are subtle, and sometimes they’re sudden. Once, where we saw the light filter through the trees at golden hour, the sky is now black.
Sometimes it’s enough to simply notice these changes in light, but why not see how you can capture them as a daily act of presence, perhaps through photography or art?
Seek Light Outdoors
Our instinct at this time of year is to withdraw indoors, to get cosy, and enjoy the warmth of a roaring fire (or in most cases, the central heating). This is a lovely thing to be able to do as we journey through autumn and into winter, but nature calls us outdoors too, where we can feel and smell the changing seasonal air. We’ve found it a beautiful thing to be able to take some of the indoor light outdoors, with fairy lights around the conservatory, and strings of lightbulbs around the garden. They give a soft light which seems to draw us outdoors, even as darkness falls earlier.
Even if you can’t illuminate your garden, why not wrap up warm and enjoy the silvery glow of the moon, the flicker of starlight, and the shimmer of dew and frost in the morning sun. These things help to remind us that the light persists even in the darker seasons.
Create Light Indoors
As much as I love to be able to enjoy the outdoors during the darker seasons, there are some days when that’s just not possible (or sensible!). As the days darken, our instinct is to flick on every light switch in sight, illuminating our rooms with the harsh light of LED bulbs. There’s something magical about the light from a candle - it’s somehow timeless, a beautiful connection to times past. We can’t always live by candlelight alone, however much we’d like to, but we can still enjoy cosy days and evenings with lamps which give a soft, focussed glow.
Instead of reaching for the nearest light switch, think about how you can create that sense of warmth and cosiness with more focussed lighting, either from lamps or candles. Somehow, when we focus the light in small areas, it encourages a stillness and sense of reflection not found under the harsh bright light of a ceiling bulb.
Seasonal Rituals and Rhythms
One way to embrace the changing light is to introduce gentle seasonal rituals - a hot chocolate by candlelight, reading under the soft glow of a lamp, or arranging autumn leaves in seedheads in a bowl. These gentle, daily acts root us in seasonal rhythms, whether we’re inside or out.
Why not draw inspiration from some other traditions such as Hygge which celebrate warmth, comfort and connection during the darker months?
Embrace Creative Reflection
As we journey through autumn and into winter, nature calls us to slow down, and to look inwards. It encourages us to dig deeper and to nourish ourselves for the times to come. In the evenings especially, seek gentle activities which encourage rest - reading, drawing, listening to music, knitting or listening to music.
Creativity itself can be a source of light - something which sustains us and brightens our spirits when the days are short and the nights long.
Light Within and Without
As the last rays of an autumn sunset cast their rays across a golden field, nature calls us to slow down, to step forward gently, to nourish and nurture ourselves, and embrace the call to rest and recharge. Even as daylight fades, there is beauty and warmth to be found, both in nature, and within ourselves.
The changing seasonal light offers us an opportunity to seek a path through the darker months. As the days shorten, let us learn not to chase the light or to fight against it, but to dwell gently in its presence, that through it, we might find a slower, deeper way of being.
How will you be embracing this gentle transition of light? I’d love to hear from you in the comments below.
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