Autumn. Thinking about it, I have never really appreciated autumn before. It’s the same with spring, in fact. Autumn and spring just seem like one of those transition seasons that you don’t really remember once it’s passed; you’re too busy reminiscing the sand between your toes, sun clinging to your skin. Or the competitive, stubborn chill trying to wrap up inside your coat with you, Christmas lights glowing in between pines of the festively decorated tree. Autumn is the acquaint of winter. Much like spring is the neighbour of summer. Problem is, everyone’s waiting for the leaves to already change colour, dry up, fall off branches and autumn to be over, in exchange for crisp, frosty, Christmas winter nights that were made for festive films and hot chocolate, right? And after the best parts of winter is over, everyone is then impatiently waiting for spring to make the ground beneath their tapping-foot-and-crossed-arms pose turn dry, and for the British “sunny” weather to bronze (or crisp, rather) their bodies. But the more I think about how humans are constantly waiting for the future, whether the previous anticipated moment is present or not, the more deluded it seems.
We long for winter during the closing of summer, and then we yearn for summer once we get fed up of the cold weather. Hmm, seems logical, doesn’t it?…
My theory to all of this narcissistic nonsense is that humans are just selfish. But maybe that isn’t a strictly fair answer (nor is it scientifically true). But c’mon, what else is it when you think about it? It’s greedy for humans to desire everything we don’t have, meaning that we can’t appreciate the things that we are lucky to have in the present. Or even to appreciate fully the things we have wanted for so long (for example, seasons). But it’s not just seasons we are constantly chasing our tails for- all year round too. We get bored of old clothes, we get bored of eating the same meal over and over, and most of all, we get bored of being bored. However, perhaps the constant need for something different than the present is our motivation for the future. Too many times people (even myself), have said “I can’t wait until Christmas!”, because it gives us something to invest our time in and look forward to. We do it for ourselves. The more conscious we may be about the fact that humans do this, the more people may appreciate things. Maybe instead of focusing solely on the future, we can appreciate the present; where the autumn coloured trees fall beneath our boots, or the moist dew that hazes over fields as newborn lambs are welcomed to the world. Are we capable of being satisfied with now, rather than wanting more later on?
Photograph: By Rachel Jefferies