I’m a lifetime lover of autumn, the fiery fall colours that herald the season of leaf drop, seed heads, berries and the emergence of anthocyanins, the red pigment in leaves.
Throughout spring and summer, the green colour of chlorophyll, which absorbs life-giving sunlight, hides red and yellow leaf pigments. In the fall, plants break down chlorophyll, sending it down to the roots during winter dormancy. The leaves turn golden, ruby and burgundy colours before fading and falling to Earth.
Autumn is also an idea, as humanity experiences autumn very differently. This article will explore what our home’s Western culture teaches us about autumn and consider an Eastern society with traditions quite different than our own.
The Autumn of Europe/America
The idea of autumn in Western countries (among its white population) is a curious paradox of both bounty and fear. Beyond the scope of this article, but acknowledged, is the rich, unique heritage of First Peoples and African-Americans, whose autumn festivals encompass celebration, dance, song, ceremony and the spirit world.
In the modern age, the two main U.S. holidays, Halloween and Thanksgiving, have become commercial events, a time to buy costumes, gifts, treats and holiday ritual food. The origin and significance of both have largely been lost.
Fall bounty festivals, like Thanksgiving and Oktoberfest in Germany, surely date back thousands of years to the invention of agriculture and animal domestication. A plentiful harvest meant that the community wouldn’t starve during the cold months of winter. Everyone relied on each other to bring the harvest in, and so these happy festivals were about community and family.
The American Thanksgiving continues the deception that Native peoples “welcomed” white settlers who invaded their land. The reality is quite different.
However, the American Thanksgiving continues the deception that Native peoples “welcomed” white settlers who invaded their land. The reality is quite different. Through war, hard labour and disease, the Native peoples were decimated and displaced over several hundred years in North and South America.
The idea of autumn expressed in Halloween is seemingly one of fear. As the days grew shorter and the nights longer, people conjured up malevolent creatures and ghosts. The ancient healing crones were turned into ugly witches by Catholicism. Animals of the night like owls and bats became dangerous or evil; in other cultures, they represented wisdom, luck, even gods. Our own skeleton was scary, the dread of death.
Trick-or-treating—children setting off on Halloween night in costume and ringing doorbells to demand treats—has been a tradition in the U.S. for at least 100 years (much longer in Europe). Its origin remains murky, but is likely related to the ancient Celtic festival of Samhain (Ireland, England and Northern France). Samhain was when the dead returned to Earth, and villagers disguised themselves in costumes made of animal skins to drive away phantoms. Banquet tables were prepared, and food was left out to placate unwelcome spirits.
The autumn of Japan
Asia has many cultures and traditions, among which I identify most with the Japanese ideas about autumn. It reflects their love of natural beauty, which they have elevated into simple, yet profound short poems called Haiku.
Similar to the cherry blossom festival (Sakura) in the spring, the Japanese autumn festival (Momiji) is a floral festival that invites the Japanese to admire a moment of incredible colours in nature—the emergence of vivid reds, oranges and yellows—that only autumn can produce before decline and dormancy. From September to November, the Japanese crowd into gardens or take walks in parks or mountains to enjoy the spectacle offered by their famous Japanese maples, which have been nurtured and hybridized over centuries.
The appearance of red spider lilies (Higanbana) is a sign that autumn has arrived in Japan. You can see them everywhere in the rural parts of the country. The red dragonfly is also a sign of autumn, and there are Haiku poems written about both.
Autumn begins after the Obon holidays in the middle of August. Obon is a spiritual event in Japan when the souls of ancestors return to this world and are welcomed back for a few days until they once again depart, but Obon isn’t about fear. Rather, people are reminded about their transitory existence, making this a season of reflection.
Like the West, Japan has a bounty festival centred on one essential crop: rice. In October, when the rice is harvested, there are festivals held throughout the country. People go out with friends to eat seasonal foods and enjoy the autumn leaves and hot springs, or stay at home and grill delicious fish, eat chestnuts and steam matsutake mushrooms in an earthenware pot. Unlike Thanksgiving, there is no single evening of family and special, seasonal foods.
Moon-viewing
Another wonderful autumn idea in Japan is “moon viewing” (Tsukimi). Dating back to the Heian era (794 to 1185 A.D.), the concept of moon-viewing has evolved. Instead of lavish banquets, people love to gaze at the moon with a small snack at the time of the full moon in September.
Although a good book can be enjoyed anytime, it is believed that autumn is especially a great time for reading. This idea likely originated with the Chinese poet Han Yu—in one of his poems, he noted that autumn nights are calm and comfortable, therefore perfect for reading by candlelight. Most Japanese schools set a reading week between late October and November, during which they encourage pupils to visit libraries more often and read more books.
In Haiku poetry, there is something called “the voice of autumn,” the sound of crunchy leaves rustling in the distance, or “autumn music,” the sound of wind or rain falling on leaves. The great poet, Basho, has an autumn poem that’s a favorite in Japan; all schoolchildren learn it. He wrote this in the autumn of 1680:
on a withered branch
sits a crow
autumn nightfall
– Basho
It’s a simple image, such that I can almost hear the crow as it settles on the branch, cawing into the empty night. In the Zen mode of thinking, he is hinting at the interdependence of all things. Now, that’s an autumn idea for the ages.
"LEGGI RELATIVI" UNA PANCHINA SOTTO L'ALBERO DI MELO: una storia delle stagioni della vita".
immagine 1 nekoroom da Pixabay 2 immagine da Benjamin Balazs da Pixabay 3 immagine da Gerd Altmann da Pixabay
