“And all at once, summer collapsed into fall.” - Oscar Wilde

That’s what it feels like some years, as though summer releases its last gasp as fall arrives without much warning. Other times, summer melts softly into autumn, the demarcation line barely visible. And then sometimes, too, we get several days of driving rain that announce summer and welcomes fall loudly and with much ado. 

This year, autumn officially began on Sept. 23, which is also the date of the Autumnal Equinox. What, you might ask, is an “equinox?” Well, the word is taken from the Latin “aequus” (equal) and “nox” (night). It’s the day in late summer when both day and night hours are relatively equal in number. Not exactly so, but close enough to qualify for equality. It happens because the time the sun spends casting its light upon us has started to shorten until it starts to set at approximately the halfway mark during a 24-hour period. So much for the astronomical process, but there’s more.

In ancient Gaelic times and even now among those who call themselves pagans, the year is divided into four “seasons.” The Autumn Equinox falls in the middle of the time known as Lughnasadh, which begins on August first and culminates with the time known as Samhain, which begins on Oct. 31. On the pagan Wheel of the Year, the two equinoxes, along with the two solstices (summer and winter) fall halfway through each of the seasons, the last two being Imbolc, which begins in December and culminates with Beltane in April. The time of Yule (winter solstice) occurs midway in December and coincides with what is known as the Christmas season. Solstices signify both the shortest and longest days of the year, so it’s not surprising that all of this thinking centers on the Sun and its relationship with Mother Earth.

As far as meteorologists and weather forecasters are concerned, fall begins on September first, this deduction being based upon temperatures, daylight length, weather patterns, and other scientific criteria. I myself can recall starting school many decades ago and hoping to sit near a window in class because it was still so warm outside! Given our allegedly changing weather patterns, September first could still come and go without any noticeable change in the temperatures around here. Who knows? Perhaps the meteorological system will someday mesh more closely with the astronomical!

In any case, here we are again, about to witness the start of the great Turning of the Trees, which is what I like to call it. Here in the northeast, we are privy to the richest concentration of fall color, an event that draws thousands of people from other parts of the country during its short but spectacular duration. Each year, there is wondering as to how intense the colors will be. And each year, we are rarely disappointed. Even just a look outside our doors is enough in most areas to sate the annual appetite for the colors that only maple trees are capable of.

And this is where the sun comes in again, because the leaves start to lose their green color as the length of daylight decreases and they stop producing chlorophyll. Not long after that happens, the trees realize that those leaves will just sap their strength in the winter and thus bid them all farewell as they sail gracefully (lacking high winds) to the ground. And we all know what that means: kids romping through the nice, neat piles we spent hours building with our trusty rakes.

Anyone who knows me knows that I love taking photos. I don’t have a fancy camera, but I pride myself on my composition and editing skills and sometimes produce some pretty good work. And every year, it seems, someone on Facebook asks me to post more photos of the changing trees, of the colors of some of them that simply take our breath away. As one old friend who moved to Florida years ago put it: “We don’t get that down here, and I miss it! Please post more!”

Rachel Lovejoy is a nature columnist who enjoys sharing her insights with the community and who currently lives in Saco.