If you’ve been following along with me for more than a year, you know I love fall. Long walks along my local paths, gawking at the show of colours that Mother Nature puts on without fail every year. I love the sound of the leaves crunching under my feet and the smell as they begin to break down. I love watching as the goldenrod go to seed and the milkweed pods open up.

I’ve just finished a week of #staycation and I’ve ventured off to many other locations along the Niagara escarpment to check them out. I’ve hiked to waterfalls, and to the edges of cliffs. I’ve scrambled up rocky paths and walked wooden and metal bridges across streams. It’s been a nice way to while away a week of mornings and at the perfect time of year.

This weekend, I returned to my local ravine, expecting to be rewarded with the same fall glories she usually gives me. But it was like she knew I’d been cheating on her. 

While it is still pretty, instead of the radiant reds and brilliant oranges she proudly showcased to me just a week ago, what I found was a shadow of her former self. Thursday’s rains meant many trees across the creek had begun dropping their leaves and the ones that are left are much more muted.

Mother Nature is starting to close the doors on this annual spectacle, and the grey bare branches that are showing up more and more are reminding us that soon it will be time to spend a few months indoors. This year, with COVID-19 continuing to breathe down our necks, that’s a little scary.

They say that one of the significant health issues with this next wave will be mental health. For some people, it’s too much time alone. For others, it’s too much time with the people they live with. For all of us, it’s the constraints put on us that don’t allow us to continue with our usual routines. Whether it’s shopping, gyms or house parties, it will be a long time before they become routine again.

I’m on my own since my daughter went back to university. My house is quiet. And as we’re not really meant to be socializing indoors with people outside our households, and we’re meant to keep any social bubbles small, the options for interaction are few. I am back at the office a few days a week, and that’s helping keep the feelings of isolation at bay, but as we inch closer to Christmas, the idea that it might not happen is starting to weigh on me. To me, Christmas is family coming home. It’s dressing up in new party clothes, visiting with friends and drinking (too much) wine. It’s hot chocolate, carols and community. I’m not sure how well Zoom, pre-recorded music and fancy dinners for one will compare. 

But we’ll manage. Because Mother Nature is warning us. This season’s show is coming to an end. With colours waning, she’s telling us to dig out our winter coats, our boots and our mittens and hats. Bright white drifts on green evergreen boughs are in our future. I’ll have to learn to enjoy hiking in the snow more. This may require new boots!