A Letter to Autumn

Maddie McDonald Student Contributor, Temple University

Logan Beck Student Contributor, Temple University

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Temple chapter and does not reflect the views of Her Campus.

As you may have noticed, summer has said its goodbyes and introduced us to

its strange friend named Autumn. The air is no longer thick with humidity, but crisp

and cool. Nature becomes deciduous, and paints the town with magnificent colors.

Many people embrace this time of year with open arms and nuzzle up in their warm

flannels and big scarves. But I’m not buying in. I’m just going to come out and say it;

Autumn you puzzle me. I don’t think I can trust you and I have my reasons.

First of all what’s with the name? You’re the only season that has

conveniently given yourself a nickname. I get it, I get it, “fall” because the leaves are

falling from the trees. Maybe we should nickname all the seasons based on the

status of the leaves on its trees then. Spring is now, “grow”, winter can be, “gone”,

and summer will be…”present.” Or we can just not be ridiculous and stop

nicknaming seasons. So, sorry “fall”, I’m going to call you autumn, because it’s only

fair to the rest of the seasons.

Now that we have cleared that up, what is it about you that makes everyone

catch “pumpkin fever”? I understand that it is the bountiful crop of the season, but

it’s gone too far. Pumpkin-flavored things are getting out of control. I can’t walk

within 100 feet of a Starbucks without being hit with a potent wave of Pumpkin

Spiced Latte’s scent. I yearn to have the days back when pumpkin pie was the only

pumpkin treat of the season. I digress, because there are lists of pumpkin flavored

tragedies that already exist. Not a good look for you, autumn.

Your fluctuating weather is nearly impossible to get a grip on, especially in

months like October. Fashion magazine shove scarves, sweaters, and boots down

our throats, and eventually we give in. We scurry off to our shopping malls and

splurge on warm clothes that have seasonal hues, fur lining, and knitted with

warmth. Of course you know what happens next. We pick a day to debut our new

fall clothes, and then autumn decides to mess with us. “Oh wow! Look at your nice

warm clothes and fashionable layers. Here, have a 75 degree day,” you say

mockingly as we sweat into the soles of our new boots. Autumn, you can be a cruel

villain sometimes. If you listen closely to the breeze on a fall day, I swear I can hear

you laughing at all of us.

Let’s not forget about Halloween. Is it just me or is this the most stressful

holiday of the year? You’re trying to tell me that I have to spend upwards of $50 on

an outfit that I will only wear once? And all of the DIY options are out of the question

too, because unfortunately I’m not part of the five percent of the population who is

capable of crafting an entire costume. This holiday is understandably fun for kids

under the age of 12 because they can walk up to a stranger’s door and receive candy.

Could we extend the age acceptability for trick-or-treating please? Trust me, a

struggling twenty-something year old college student would appreciate a free face

full of chocolate just as much as a 12 year old. Instead, we are encouraged to drink

pumpkin flavored vodka and call it a night. Thanks, autumn.

So autumn, I don’t’ mean to attack you if that’s how it seems. There are plenty

of things I enjoy about you. Nothing is better than devouring a plate of wings with

you friends on football Sunday. Thanksgiving is arguably the best holiday for food,

and it’s great to get together with the family after some time apart. And I’d be lying

to you if I said I didn’t get serious satisfaction out of carving a Pumpkin once a year.

You do have your likable qualities autumn. I’ll do my best on being a little less

judgmental, and you just work on getting pumpkin-flavored things off the shelves.

Autumn

A Letter to Autumn

We wanna slide into your DMs