Webs


Three spiders have made their homes outside my apartment windows. Sometimes, I watch them spin their webs in the dark, orange streetlights barely illuminating the fibers. Usually they’re sheltered from the rainy Oregon weather but every so often, when it rains sideways, huge holes appear in the meticulously symmetrical designs. I’m always so amazed at the spiders’ diligence. They never stop. They’re never deterred. I’m assuming they’re never discouraged, though I don’t have much understanding of spider brains and emotions.

I’m proud of them. I’m inspired by them. They’re my little friends, my little roommates, and I root for them every night while I fall asleep. I hope they know how much I care about them. I hope they know how much they matter to me.

I hope they feel me, silently cheering them on in solidarity, because if they can rebuild, so can I.

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Fall Is Not For Lattes


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A photo of my gorgeous college campus last fall.

Every girl in college is excited about fall because “yay pumpkin spice lattes, cozy sweaters, and boots!” This isn’t to say I’m not excited about those things too, because I love me a chunky sweater and some tall boots (pumpkin spice lattes are another matter entirely — my taste buds are very friendly but do not wish to tango with pumpkin spice ever again), but it is to say that there are a lot more wonderful things about fall than sweaters.

This is my favorite season. How could you not want to spend every waking moment outside (or at least looking outside) in fall? Every breath you take is filled with the smell of earth, of leaves, of cold, and everywhere you look there’s a new color you’ve never seen before. The world has changed for us to simply look at. We’re always so preoccupied with doing, making but in fall, all you have to do is watch. These silent changes happen over night, and as you wake up, throwing open the curtains, the earth reveals a startlingly red tree that was yellow the night before, or a bare tree that was fully covered yesterday. Am I the only one who wishes I could be constantly awake in fall so I could see the changes happen slowly before my eyes?

The eye was never tired of gazing, night or day, in calm or storm, it suffered but one grief, and that was that it could not look always, but must close sometimes in sleep.Mark Twain, Roughing It.

I wonder if this is how it feels to be in love: to want to stare into your partner’s eyes and simply look, observe, because just their heartbeat, the fact that they’re alive, is enough. That’s what fall is. It’s the long moments of serenity you feel when you just watch something unfold and grow before you, attaining new levels of life right before your eyes.

Spring is a time of rebirth and growth, and fall is when everything shifts to sustain that life through hardship. It’s like a mother, who gets you ready for bed and kisses you goodnight before winter comes and covers you with its cold blanket. Fall is our protector, our guardian.

So breathe, because it’s fall, and fall smells like life.