By Elisabeth Strillacci
For the Salisbury Post

I have somehow never been able to see January as the start of the new year. For me, it’s always been September.

In part, I guess, it’s because fall, or autumn, is my favorite season.

But it’s also because, from about four years of age, when I started preschool, September was the start of the new school year. A time I still love.

I know, many of you are thinking how that was not your happy time, having to go back to classrooms and homework and structured time that was not your own.

But for me, every new school year was a new start, an opportunity to once again succeed. I was getting to see friends I did not see over the summer, for whatever reason (travel, family time, no one to ferry us across town, eventually summer jobs, etc.). There was a lot of catching up to do.

And for me, a school nerd if you will, I was heading back to the place where I was getting to dive into all kinds of new information.

I was a tennis player as well, so getting back to the team and, admittedly, the competition, was always exciting.

Add in the weather — cooler nights with open windows, Friday night football, sweaters made of snuggle-worthy fabrics, fall colors that are warm and comforting — and now I’m really feeling a combination of the excitement of learning and a new start, the joy of reconnecting with others and the peace of feeling the earth settle in to her easy place.

As the leaves change color, then fall, I adore scuffing my feet as I walk along sidewalks. I enjoy the raking, even when my back does not, and though I well know, as a home owner, that leaf collection is always a bone of contention between residents and their towns, I still love the piles along the roadside. After all, nothing good and wonderful comes without some equal and balancing work and struggle. If leaf collection is the toughest challenge of fall, I’ll take it happily.

Autumn is filled with scents I adore as well. Woodsmoke, from the backyard fire pits neighbors gather around, the smell of leaves burning (follow the rules, please, no emergency fire calls!), the way trees and grass take on a softer fragrance as they begin to prepare for the hibernation months of winter, and the way the evergreens begin to assert their piney, icey fragrance, all make me smile and breathe deeply.

Don’t get me wrong. Spring and its rebirth, with its fresh greens and early, bright blossoms of forsythia and chrocus leave me cheerful and filled with hope. Summer, with its heat and incessant blooms, roses, rosemary and lavender, the scents of chlorine from pools and hot tar, give me a chance to revisit a bit of childhood. Winter reminds me that we all need time to rest, recover and replenish, and the cold is refreshing and makes me grateful for the warmth of coats and heat and soul-warming foods.

But something about autumn reverberates in my heart and soul. It’s a reassuring reminder that even as we age, there is beauty in us and in the world around us. We all, humans, animals, the very earth we live upon, still have things to offer despite gray hairs, wrinkles, red and orange falling leaves, slower gaits, shorter days and aging vessels.

It’s also a time to remember to be grateful for the seasons that have come before. It’s a time to reflect and appreciate all that I have enjoyed in the spring and summer, and to prepare for the winter so I’m ready when it comes. In a strange way, autumn helps me prepare for loss, as I adjust to the changes. Loss and winter are inevitable, but fall gives me time to say goodbye, and to remember that spring will come, always.

This is my personal new beginning, and I have learned to embrace it. I hope you, too, can revel in what this season brings. Slow down, breathe deep, and let yourself live in these moments.

Elisabeth Strillacci is former editor of the Salisbury Post.