Summer bid goodbye not too long ago, but winter is already here, rushing to say hello. There is a short season between summer and winter though, a season that is crisp and colourful. During the presence of this short-lasting season, you feel neither the scorching summer heat nor the bone-freezing winter chill, both of which make life unbearable. I feel its presence in the afternoon when the mild sunshine and cool breeze flood me and my surroundings. Autumn reminds me of my winter days in Dhaka.
I loved winter in Dhaka. It never really got very cold in those days -- a jumper was enough to keep a child warm when he or she headed for school in the morning. It usually warmed up by afternoon and we would take our jumpers off and tie them around our waists. Autumn here in America feels like winter in Dhaka – a light jacket, jumper, or sweater is enough to keep myself warm and cosy.
On an autumn morning, I wake up and tiptoe to the living room in search of my slippers. The hardwood floor feels ice-cold to my feet that have lived and walked in a tropical land all their lives. I hug myself tight as I look for my slippers in the kitchen, the bathroom, behind the sofa, and under the dining table. I lose them every night. And I half-wonder if there is an elf in the house that likes to play with my footwear.
After I discover my slippers I turn the heater on. I keep hugging myself until the rooms are warm enough. Autumn is beautiful but I miss the summer mornings when sunshine poured through my small kitchen window and brightened up the house. I would open the window and breathe in the fresh summer air. In autumn, I try not to do that because the cold outside air creates invisible lumps in my air passage. I look through the window though to see what's new in nature.
In the beginning of autumn, the nature outside appears vivid with shades of red, brown, yellow, purple, black, pink, magenta, and orange with some splashes of green here and there. The soon-to-be-bald trees sway majestically as they display their colours to man and beast alike. In autumn, the trees look their best. I think they save up their beauty for this particular time of the year. It's ironic though – trees look their best just before they enter their dormancy period, a state that's almost similar to death. I read the other day that during dormancy, a tree's growth and development literally come to a standstill. It's this how the trees live through extreme cold, snow and strong winds in the winter season.
But this period before dormancy is magnificent; it transforms each plant and tree into a short-lived painter. With bold and bright strokes, each of these painters paints nature in the most blazing kaleidoscope of colours.
I wait for autumn as much as I wait for summer every year. While I can enjoy summertime for a few months, I can relish autumnal beauty for only a handful of weeks. Autumn bids me a quick good-bye every year. And before I can even close the door on him, I find winter waving at me from outside the window — he is here already, unwanted, although not unexpected.
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© Wara Karim
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