There are two types of people in this world: those who aspire to exist in an eternal summer and those who are counting down the days until the hallowed “ber” months - September, October, November and December - finally arrive.

It is perhaps no great surprise that I fall into the latter category. My aesthetic is cloned from an episode of Gilmore Girls. Pumpkin-spiced everything becomes my entire personality. I buy so many scented candles you’d think I was living off-grid or a closet doomsday prepper.

Rather than eking out the final dregs of summer, I’m already craving cosy autumn days spent contentedly reading beside the fire as the wind and rain batters the windows.

I’m picturing myself kicking through the leaves while sipping a hot chocolate. Stocking up the freezer with hearty soups, rich casseroles and gravy-filled pies. Rejoicing as I take my gargantuan collection of warm, woolly jumpers and thick socks out of mothballs.

There should be an advent-style calendar where we open a little door every day through August, each one taking us closer to the best bit of the year.

This weekend marks a crossroads between the seasons. A halfway house. The changing of the guard. September 1 is the meteorological start of autumn, with the equinox itself now only a few weeks away.


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To my mind, it seems like the only creatures to have thrived this summer are damp and humidity-loving beasties, such as midges, ticks and horse flies. I won’t miss slathering Anthisan onto a fresh batch of bites on an almost daily basis. Good riddance, I say.

Am I jumping the gun? Perhaps a tad, admittedly. If you are reading this in 21C heat while firing up the barbecue for one last hurrah, it might not quite hit the spot I intended.

Although, even if the weather forecast is to be believed and we are indeed in for a mini heatwave over the coming days, the first small shifts in the circadian rhythms are already palpable.

Harbingers of autumn that bring tiny shivers of anticipation. The light is softer. There’s a chill creeping into the morning air. The sun sits lower in the sky, casting ever-longer shadows.

Likewise, the formerly vivid greens outside in the garden are fading into a more subdued palette, the subtle beginnings of yellow, crimson, gold, ochre, bronze, amber and russet tones appearing within foliage and undergrowth.

Granted, this time of year does have its downsides: the dwindling daylight hours; constantly fighting the urge to turn the central heating up full whack; having to tolerate the return of my long-time nemesis, aka “The Big Light”, to sear my eyeballs on gloomy evenings.


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Yet, there is much to be grateful for. While summer can feel like an endless whirl of social obligations, autumn represents the perfect time to retreat and regroup.

A period for self-care, reflection and growth. Hunkering down to daydream, scribble ideas and forge a new set of bold goals. Shedding all the things that no longer serve us.

It is less about hibernation, more a hermit-lite mode: carving out space to do the things that are essential for your own health and happiness.

How does that look? The trick is to lean in and embrace what is typically described as “boring” behaviour. Prioritise sleep, take long walks, read good books, put your phone on airplane mode, turn off social media and do things that feed your soul.

The biggest joy about the “ber” months is finding magic in the mundane. I’m not a huge fan of the term “romanticise your life”, but there is something about the muted lighting and gentler pace that makes everything take on a wholesome glow. I can’t wait.


Susan Swarbrick is a columnist and freelance writer who specialises in celebrity interviews, TV content and musings on popular culture. She also loves the outdoors and regularly covers sport. Follow her on X @SusanSwarbrick