Fall in Minnesota: A skeptic's embrace (It's me. I'm the skeptic)

I’ve made many jokes about how fall is my least favorite season. It still is, don’t get me wrong. I just think I realized why I say this. In my brain, there are two autumns– the warm and sunny season at the start, and the cold and dreary, lifeless carcass of a magic-depleted post-Halloween at the end. 

It’s not difficult to love the early fall season. Just take a walk on any Minneapolis sidewalk, and you’ll feel the magic as you pass the occasional fallen leaf on your way to a local coffee shop for a pumpkin-flavored coffee. The colder end is surprisingly serene, most people stop gassing up fall once Halloween ends, mainly because nobody likes trees without leaves! Sorry trees.

Everyone who hates summer begins celebrating fall in July. As soon as June ends, people bring up layering clothes, Halloween, and pumpkin spice lattes. In the same breath, the fall fanatics get mad when the winter fanatics put up a Christmas tree before Thanksgiving, which is hilarious, considering the call is coming from inside the house! You can’t celebrate fall in July and then be mad at people for packing up Halloween and playing Christmas music on November 1st. As for myself, I celebrate fall at an appropriate time. It’s a month known by most as “September!”

Anyway, the hype may be lost on me, but I’ve still been studying the perfect fall vibes for years. My method is to approach it as if I’m Jack Skellington studying Christmas. I take a sip off my pumpkin spice cold brew in a very warm jacket for a 70-degree day, and I’m like, “Interesting reaction… but what does it MEAN?!”

I get the cozy, okay?! I’ve read a hygge book for like 2 minutes at the bookstore! I’ve drank warm beverages, and sometimes I’ve actually finished them before they’re cold. I’ve certainly looked at the apples in the orchard, and then promptly went into their store asking for the best apples for baking. I’ve spent a little too much on a gourd based solely on the aura it’s giving me.

When it’s cold and dead at the end of fall, I’ll wish for the sunny rotten leaf smell, and I’ll remember all the small fall rituals we perform before Halloween. I’ll remember how the trees looked perfectly preened in their best oranges and reds, and as silly as it may be, I’ll imagine how good my next year’s fall performance will be.