“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers,” said Anne of Green Gables. “It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it?” Yes, it would. Nothing against September or November (or any other month), but think of all we would miss if we didn’t have October.
Toward the end of September (this year on September 22) is the Autumnal Equinox. The earth tilts so that, in the northern hemisphere, sunlight recedes and night slowly appropriates our day. Because a month measures time, and time means change, every month has change; but October—with its spring counterpart, April—has the most change. The weather shifts, blessedly. With any luck, we’ve seen the last of the sweltering summer. We put away the shorts and sandals and take out the hoodies and sweaters. We open the windows and let in the fresh air. We take walks without needing a shower afterwards. On a good October day, you can almost drink the air.
Nature will do much with this change. A tree on October first looks pretty much the same as it did on the first of the preceding four months. By the end of October, that tree will be different and, with it, our whole outlook. Like an artist working on a painting, nature slowly brushes over the lush greens of summer with red, yellow, rust, and orange. Almost every tree will look a little different each day. It’s a wonder to behold, and I’m surprised God doesn’t charge us for the exhibition.
The leaves begin to fall. You’re missing out on something if you don’t take time to watch them do it. On a calm day, they glide to the ground as though looking for just the right spot to land. If there’s wind, they flutter and twist, go up and down, curl and dive, until finally they give it up and settle on some spot impossible to calculate. Serendipity in action.
Once on the ground, they give us that special sound of October—the rustling and crackle of dried leaves. We crunch over them, kick them up, pick them up and throw them. Confetti and fireworks at the same time.
There are two schools of thought and one heresy about what to do with leaves on the ground. You can rake them, which is great exercise, keeps things tidy, and provides a pile for kids to jump in. Or you can let them be, which gives October a leisurely and appropriate party-in-the-making look. The heresy is the leaf-blower; a perfect example of modernity in that it takes something simple and makes it noisier, more expensive, and less fun. (I’m for letting them be; after all they’re called “leaves.”)
Gone is the heavy haze of summer and with it the cumulus clouds and cataclysmic thunderstorms. Autumn’s skies can be liquid blue—which makes it almost a sin to stay inside—or, perhaps better yet, pearly ashen blankets that enhance the pageantry of the trees. These bring quiet, misty days providing a good excuse to curl up with a book, a pipe, and something strong to ward off the chill. October caters to both the sanguine and the melancholic.
The wildlife changes, too. Red-wing blackbirds and orioles disappear, and with them, thank God, many bugs. Deer, sensible creatures, exchange their tawny fur for grayish overcoats to protect from the colder weather and hunters. Foxes lose that sleek, man-about-town red look and resemble more the down-and-out hucksters we know them to be.
And what do we do with all these changes? Well, what other month has a festival named after it? Nature has produced her bounty, and we celebrate. Homes are fragrant with soups and stews. We bake apple pies and drink apple cider. Wine grapes are harvested about this time and it’s fun to go to a “grape stomping.” We have homecomings where we meet old friends and make new ones. We are fully clothed now and so pay more attention to people’s faces and smile more. October may be the most sensuous month of the year.
If sports are your thing, your favorite football team, unless it’s pathetic, “still has a shot at the playoffs.” Baseball has The World Series, the “Fall Classic.” At least four, and if we’re lucky, seven, games of heroic moments, brutal mistakes, and agonizing second-guessing. It’s a soap opera on steroids.
In November, the Faith will have us remember the dead, and October will gradually turn our gaze that way with appropriate feasts. The first of the month is the feast of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, whose “little way” reminds us that the smallest of actions can have eternal significance. October second is the feast of the Guardian Angels, those messengers sent to each of us personally “to light, to guard, to rule, and to guide.” The seventh is the feast of the Holy Rosary in honor of Mary’s help at the Battle of Lepanto in 1571. At The Heights we celebrate with Capture the Flag and a school-wide rosary. Her assistance defeated armies and can defeat any foes we may have. October 11 is the feast of St. Damien of Molokai, the friend of the lepers who said a graveyard was the best book of meditation. St. Teresa of Avila, the Spanish mystic who was so human (as all saints are), has her feast on the fifteenth. If you don’t think life is primarily a spiritual battle, read her writings; she saw it. The eighteenth gives us St. Luke, who gave us the parables of the Prodigal Son and the Good Samaritan, reminding us of God’s mercy and our responsibility to our neighbor. The North American Martyrs have their feast on the nineteenth; yes, in our land blood was shed for the Faith. Many boys look forward to October 22, because each class has at least a couple John Pauls, named for Pope St. John Paul II. What a difference the life of one man made to the world.
The month ends with the eve of a feast: All Hallow’s Eve. I enjoy Halloween mostly because it is a religious festival that our culture hasn’t ignored, as it does Easter, or completely trivialized with commercialism, as it does Christmas. With its trappings of ghosts, ghoulies, and witches, it gives at least a passing nod to the Christian belief that there is another world out there. I know many are wary of the “darker side” of Halloween, but I am not. It can be healthy to be frightened out of our wits, if only to realize that we have wits, and need to use them. Adults and children should dress up and be silly, for, as Chesterton reminded us, “the secret of life lies in laughter and humility.”
God knew what He was doing when He gave October thirty one days. We need them all to see everything, feel everything, and appreciate everything that this glorious month gives us.