WHY WILL EVERYTHING BE THIS WAY?<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t like autumn,\u201d V. said again, scrunching her nose.<\/p>\n
Back then\u2026 when autumn brought wild associations of wind trying to rip the hair from your head, puddles impossible to cross or jump over that seemed to appear on purpose, and a constant shower from the sky that, even on the fifteenth frustrated roll of the eyes, never turned off.<\/p>\n
Autumn also reminded me of the start of the school year, when after loose-haired summers, sun-kissed noses, and bare feet, I had to return to early morning routines, lugging a backpack heavier than me, walking into classrooms still soaked in summer heat.<\/p>\n
Childhood autumns were tied to All Saints\u2019 Day and the agonizingly large number of candles my grandparents and parents insisted on lighting \u2014 only for the wind to blow half of them out. Then, with great concern, my dad would kneel again and try to relight those rebellious candles with fingers frozen from the cold.<\/p>\n
Autumn also meant cranberry season. Our family\u2019s little green Lada, packed full with \u201cbuckets and little buckets,\u201d would head toward Anyk\u0161\u010diai. Into the swamp. Everyone went to the swamp. And I went to the bog \u2014 which, in my childish imagination, promised to swallow me whole without leaving a trace. I had probably read too many fairy tales about merciless bogs devouring small children.<\/p>\n
And mushroom picking happened in that season. I didn\u2019t yet know the pine forests of Vilnius. I couldn\u2019t imagine that forests could be overgrown with bushes, with grass reaching my armpits, and collapsed with impassable brambles, where, in my subjective opinion, snakes lived. Adults insisted\u2026 those were exactly the places where the best mushrooms grew.<\/p>\n
And potato harvests happened in autumn. When the \u201chero\u201d of the day arrived in the field \u2014 a horse that fascinated and terrified me at the same time. Somehow, in my small, tousled head, there was a story that if a horse bit you with its big, dirty teeth\u2026 the wound would never heal, not in your whole lovely little life. Now, in my forties, I finally realize that story was probably spread into the air by adults to keep us kids from standing in the way of the potato harvester.<\/p>\n
Add to that constantly wet shoes.
\nAnd, as usual, a nose running like a little river.
\nWhich sometimes ended in coughing fits.
\nThen the clinic.
\nBitter tonics. Potato compresses. Endless cups of tea with honey \u2014 which I still dislike immensely.<\/p>\n
In short, autumn was the epitome of evil. Winter had mountains and sleds. Spring had birthdays and the \u201calmost summer\u201d anticipation. Summer was so full of joy that a keyboard would crash trying to describe it all. Autumn was barren.<\/p>\n
I grew up.
\nI\u2019m no longer afraid of being swallowed by bogs. Potato harvests with terrifying, toothy horses no longer exist. For All Saints\u2019 Day, people invented candles in jars. With lids. And even though the wind is still just as biting, when I visit the graves, I can\u2019t stop admiring the abundance of flickering candles and the huge sense of love and respect hanging in the air for those we have lost.<\/p>\n
I started to admire autumn forests, where stout-capped porcini block my path.
\nWhere roadside bushes bend under berry clusters that summer didn\u2019t allow me to pick.
\nI fell in love with the fogs.
\nI go out to watch them whenever I see their folds on the horizon.
\nI started to find beauty in birds flying away.
\nAnd one of the most delightful scents became pumpkin pie baking in the oven, made from pumpkins fresh from the garden.<\/p>\n
I started to enjoy the pleasant coolness that allows me, after the summer heat, to return to my beloved layering of clothes.
\nWith great energy, I take my ankle boots from the top shelf, find matching gloves, glance over the neatly folded scarves that slept through the summer.
\nAnd already, halfway through summer, my mind begins to spin ideas about how I\u2019ll combine colors in outfits and wrap myself in the long-awaited layers for the coming autumn.<\/p>\n
It may sound silly that I now reach a point in my life when I start looking forward to the end of summer just so I can change my wardrobe.
\nBut that\u2019s just who I am.
\nFrom a childhood of deep dislike for autumn, I am now experiencing its stage of love.
\nIn full bloom.
\nSeeing so many things through new eyes.<\/p>\n
Our autumn is almost here.<\/p>\n
V.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"template":"","class_list":["post-15211","kolekcija","type-kolekcija","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.devbrothers.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/kolekcija\/15211","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.devbrothers.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/kolekcija"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.devbrothers.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/kolekcija"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/viktorijos.devbrothers.lt\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=15211"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}