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Autumn: A Spiritual Biography of the Season
Discover how this transitional season can reveal both the abundance and the limitations of our everyday lives.
Autumn, with all its traditional images of colorful trees, frost-covered pumpkins, and piles of wood stored up against winter's cold, can be a season filled with anticipation. The harvest, the imminent onset of cold and snow, the resumption of old routines, and the beginning of the school year all require preparation and planning. If summer has been something of a pause, autumn helps us to see the passage of time more clearly.
Autumn is a season of fruition and reaping, of thanksgiving and celebration of abundance and goodness of the earth. But it is also a season that starkly and realistically encourages us to see our own limitations.
Warm and stirring pieces by E. B. White, Anne Lamott, P. D. James, Julian of Norwich, May Sarton, Kimiko Hahn, and many others in this beautiful book rejoice in autumn as a time of preparation and reflection, when the results of hard labor are ripe for harvest.
299 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2004
2 people are currently reading
122 people want to read
About the author
Gary D. Schmidt
76 books2,175 followersGary D. Schmidt is an American children's writer of nonfiction books and young adult novels, including two Newbery Honor books. He lives on a farm in Alto, Michigan,with his wife and six children, where he splits wood, plants gardens, writes, feeds the wild cats that drop by and wishes that sometimes the sea breeze came that far inland. He is a Professor of English at Calvin College.
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Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews
September 24, 2019
That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
William Shakespeare
"Spiritual" is not one of the words I would use to describe myself, so the hymns, prayers and selections from the Book of Ruth were wasted on me. I did, however, enjoy most of the musings on this bittersweet time of year, with its raging beauty, yet unavoidable reminders of approaching death.
There are thoughtful essays about change, such as this one by Allen M Young:
Look to the gaudy colors of autumn leaves to signal the eventual presence of renewed life. In autumn's vibrant colors there are reminders of summer's fullness of life, of winter's impending bleakness, and the prospect of spring not far beyond. Autumn compels us to think about life's transience and continuity all in one.
And seasonal poetry by Robert Frost, Hahm Dong-seon, Leo Dangel, and more.
Here's a excerpt from my favorite, The Music One Looks Back On by Stephen Dobyns:
Much later they will remember only a color,
a golden yellow, and the sound of their feet
scuffling the leaves. A day without rancor
or angry words, the sort of day that builds a life,
becoming a soft place to look back on,
and geese, geese flying south out of winter.
When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruined choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
William Shakespeare
"Spiritual" is not one of the words I would use to describe myself, so the hymns, prayers and selections from the Book of Ruth were wasted on me. I did, however, enjoy most of the musings on this bittersweet time of year, with its raging beauty, yet unavoidable reminders of approaching death.
There are thoughtful essays about change, such as this one by Allen M Young:
Look to the gaudy colors of autumn leaves to signal the eventual presence of renewed life. In autumn's vibrant colors there are reminders of summer's fullness of life, of winter's impending bleakness, and the prospect of spring not far beyond. Autumn compels us to think about life's transience and continuity all in one.
And seasonal poetry by Robert Frost, Hahm Dong-seon, Leo Dangel, and more.
Here's a excerpt from my favorite, The Music One Looks Back On by Stephen Dobyns:
Much later they will remember only a color,
a golden yellow, and the sound of their feet
scuffling the leaves. A day without rancor
or angry words, the sort of day that builds a life,
becoming a soft place to look back on,
and geese, geese flying south out of winter.
September 29, 2025
An autumn so rare should not close without a recorded "hail and farewell!" Spring was not braver, summer was not sweeter. That year's great sun called upon a great spirit in all the riverside woods. Those woods did not grow cold; they yielded to their last sunset. Alice Meynell
I have been walking in the woods and have lain down on the ground to rest. It is the middle of October, and around me, all through the woods, the leaves are quietly sifting down. The newly fallen leaves make a dry, comfortable bed, and I lie easy, coming to rest within myself as I seem to do nowadays only when I am in the woods. Wendell Berry
9/27/25, all images by me:
There is a handful of autumn imagery that is recycled over and over again, and this book had them all, but also some more welcome progressive and powerful imagery that I wish could be more mainstream to fight against the tyranny of doom and gloom so prevalent. Yes, autumn leaves are technically dying, and yes, plants after harvest are technically dying after they produce their yield, we get it. Those are facts. And yes, the European colonial tradition of writers and artists was doom and gloom because instead of feeling the joy of the North American color show, they were jealous they didn’t have anything like it, with their leaves barely changing color, turning brown and falling insipidly to the ground.
And I can appreciate that those who are susceptible to mental health challenges might find solace in some of the doom and gloom imagery out there, so I am sensitive to that, it just can’t be the only theme present. I also admit that Colorado’s fall is vastly different than other others I have experienced in brightness factor due to our abundant sunshine at altitude.
I just ask artists and writers to really look at the fall colors, feel the crisp air, get cozy with soft sweaters and blankets in cooler temperatures, walk more at sunset that gets earlier every day, feel the sun on your face, contemplate the brightness of fall instead of the dark, and cherish this last show that nature performs. The light in a forest of color is unlike the light of a summer forest, and it is warm and bright. The skies reveal the bluest of blues, or the cloud cover deepens the hues of the leaves and the landscape. There is so much to see and sing of.
There is no one right way to experience and sing of the seasons. For me, summer is frolicking on long walks and hikes in the peace of the green forest and rushing rivers and I am busy and active more than any other time of year. Spring and winter have their own beauties but can be a time of rest as we wait for the snow to amass to snowshoe or to melt for hiking, so that rest is contemplative and productive. Others find pause in other seasons.
Autumn reveals magic in leaves and landscape until snow starts and perhaps it would help all those who hate the short days of winter if we change the narrative. It is not just me that finds beauty in every season, and it is not romantic, or foolish, or dreamy; it is reality. It is also reality that there is ugliness in every season, but that is not the most important thing to know. The fact is the leaves die, but the trees don’t, and the reality is that they are beautiful as they change and fall. The spiritual nature of seasons, all seasons, is the paradox and the beauty found. Let’s elevate and celebrate that!
We are now in the season of a few loose ends, but for the most part, the lines are sharper on the landscape, the air less dense, and autumn's message is to the point, clean and definite. Features of the land, once hidden by foliage, now become boldly obvious. When the weather conditions are right, very few, if any, sojourns along a wooded path compare to the inspirational magnificence and celebratory mood of autumn colors. The seemingly simple beauty of these trees uplifts the spirit in spite of summer's passing and energizes you to walk briskly on. Living close to a city makes the "nature" experience even more treasured. These are the best days for gazing at the portrait autumn has splashed on nature's canvas. Sunlight cascades down through the branches or brightens a distant slope of forest with a vibrancy that is impossible to describe. Being in the woods on such days cleanses the spirit and mind, bringing joy and a welcome respite from life's ups and downs. Allen M. Young
The Music One Looks Back On by Stephen Dobyns
In early autumn, there's a concerto
possible when there's a guest in the house
and the guest is taking a shower and the host
is washing up from the night before.
With each turn of the tap in the kitchen,
the water temperature increases or drops
upstairs and the guest responds with little groans-
cold water for low notes, hot water for high.
His hair is soapy, the tub slippery
and with his groaning he becomes the concerto's
primary instrument. Then let's say the night
even the wife's small sighs and resettlings
combine into this autumn concerto of which
not one of the musicians is aware as they drift
toward breakfast and then a leisurely walk
through the fields near the house-two friends
who haven't seen each other for over a year.
Much later they will remember only a color,
a golden yellow, and the sound of their feet
scuffling the leaves. A day without rancor
or angry words, the sort of day that builds a life,
becoming a soft place to look back on,
and geese, geese flying south out of winter.
Europeans coming to America are surprised by the brilliancy of our autumnal foliage. There is no account of such a phenomenon in English poetry, because the trees acquire but few bright colors there. October is the month for painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall, so the year nears its setting. October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight. Henry David Thoreau
A Rough Sketch of Autumn by Hahm Dong-seon
Shadows of the bluish-black pine forest
Harbor the trestle, the field of eulalia
And graze along the first footholds of the mountain.
A dragonfly threading the curved creek bank
Seems stunned by the shadows
And lights on a cosmos
That blooms in a tilt as though counting on the wind
to come back soon.
At the gates of the village
The long sound of autumn comes in a quaver,
The throat notes of someone singing pansori.
Over a grandmother's stooped shoulders,
The sun in autumn, whether it wants to or not,
Disappears as soon as it nears the horizon.
In my heart
A parched leaf is always sculling past.
I have been walking in the woods and have lain down on the ground to rest. It is the middle of October, and around me, all through the woods, the leaves are quietly sifting down. The newly fallen leaves make a dry, comfortable bed, and I lie easy, coming to rest within myself as I seem to do nowadays only when I am in the woods. Wendell Berry
9/27/25, all images by me:
There is a handful of autumn imagery that is recycled over and over again, and this book had them all, but also some more welcome progressive and powerful imagery that I wish could be more mainstream to fight against the tyranny of doom and gloom so prevalent. Yes, autumn leaves are technically dying, and yes, plants after harvest are technically dying after they produce their yield, we get it. Those are facts. And yes, the European colonial tradition of writers and artists was doom and gloom because instead of feeling the joy of the North American color show, they were jealous they didn’t have anything like it, with their leaves barely changing color, turning brown and falling insipidly to the ground.
And I can appreciate that those who are susceptible to mental health challenges might find solace in some of the doom and gloom imagery out there, so I am sensitive to that, it just can’t be the only theme present. I also admit that Colorado’s fall is vastly different than other others I have experienced in brightness factor due to our abundant sunshine at altitude.
I just ask artists and writers to really look at the fall colors, feel the crisp air, get cozy with soft sweaters and blankets in cooler temperatures, walk more at sunset that gets earlier every day, feel the sun on your face, contemplate the brightness of fall instead of the dark, and cherish this last show that nature performs. The light in a forest of color is unlike the light of a summer forest, and it is warm and bright. The skies reveal the bluest of blues, or the cloud cover deepens the hues of the leaves and the landscape. There is so much to see and sing of.
There is no one right way to experience and sing of the seasons. For me, summer is frolicking on long walks and hikes in the peace of the green forest and rushing rivers and I am busy and active more than any other time of year. Spring and winter have their own beauties but can be a time of rest as we wait for the snow to amass to snowshoe or to melt for hiking, so that rest is contemplative and productive. Others find pause in other seasons.
Autumn reveals magic in leaves and landscape until snow starts and perhaps it would help all those who hate the short days of winter if we change the narrative. It is not just me that finds beauty in every season, and it is not romantic, or foolish, or dreamy; it is reality. It is also reality that there is ugliness in every season, but that is not the most important thing to know. The fact is the leaves die, but the trees don’t, and the reality is that they are beautiful as they change and fall. The spiritual nature of seasons, all seasons, is the paradox and the beauty found. Let’s elevate and celebrate that!
We are now in the season of a few loose ends, but for the most part, the lines are sharper on the landscape, the air less dense, and autumn's message is to the point, clean and definite. Features of the land, once hidden by foliage, now become boldly obvious. When the weather conditions are right, very few, if any, sojourns along a wooded path compare to the inspirational magnificence and celebratory mood of autumn colors. The seemingly simple beauty of these trees uplifts the spirit in spite of summer's passing and energizes you to walk briskly on. Living close to a city makes the "nature" experience even more treasured. These are the best days for gazing at the portrait autumn has splashed on nature's canvas. Sunlight cascades down through the branches or brightens a distant slope of forest with a vibrancy that is impossible to describe. Being in the woods on such days cleanses the spirit and mind, bringing joy and a welcome respite from life's ups and downs. Allen M. Young
The Music One Looks Back On by Stephen Dobyns
In early autumn, there's a concerto
possible when there's a guest in the house
and the guest is taking a shower and the host
is washing up from the night before.
With each turn of the tap in the kitchen,
the water temperature increases or drops
upstairs and the guest responds with little groans-
cold water for low notes, hot water for high.
His hair is soapy, the tub slippery
and with his groaning he becomes the concerto's
primary instrument. Then let's say the night
even the wife's small sighs and resettlings
combine into this autumn concerto of which
not one of the musicians is aware as they drift
toward breakfast and then a leisurely walk
through the fields near the house-two friends
who haven't seen each other for over a year.
Much later they will remember only a color,
a golden yellow, and the sound of their feet
scuffling the leaves. A day without rancor
or angry words, the sort of day that builds a life,
becoming a soft place to look back on,
and geese, geese flying south out of winter.
Europeans coming to America are surprised by the brilliancy of our autumnal foliage. There is no account of such a phenomenon in English poetry, because the trees acquire but few bright colors there. October is the month for painted leaves. Their rich glow now flashes round the world. As fruits and leaves and the day itself acquire a bright tint just before they fall, so the year nears its setting. October is its sunset sky; November the later twilight. Henry David Thoreau
A Rough Sketch of Autumn by Hahm Dong-seon
Shadows of the bluish-black pine forest
Harbor the trestle, the field of eulalia
And graze along the first footholds of the mountain.
A dragonfly threading the curved creek bank
Seems stunned by the shadows
And lights on a cosmos
That blooms in a tilt as though counting on the wind
to come back soon.
At the gates of the village
The long sound of autumn comes in a quaver,
The throat notes of someone singing pansori.
Over a grandmother's stooped shoulders,
The sun in autumn, whether it wants to or not,
Disappears as soon as it nears the horizon.
In my heart
A parched leaf is always sculling past.
November 2, 2020
I loved this collection of excerpts from writings about Autumn.
November 4, 2025
As with any collection there are ones that spoke to me more, but the theme was so well done and spoke of so many facets of autumn that it was a pleasure to read.
October 28, 2012
[4½ stars] I read this several years ago, and apparently it was pleasant enough but didn't make much of an impression on me, because I only remembered one poem when I started rereading it ("October Prayer" by Esther Popel, which is pretty passionate!) This time around, I must have been better suited for it, or it for me, because I definitely enjoyed it.
Fancy subtitle aside, this is an anthology of essays, poems, prayers, and nonfiction excerpts from larger works, all on the subject of autumn. The editors have divided the selections into five parts: change, endings, work, harvest, and thanksgiving. They do a good job of introducing both the parts and the individual pieces, so the entire anthology hangs together well. Only at the end did I wonder how well some of the individual pieces reflected their theme, but they were still good to read. The writings mostly come from North America and western Europe, and most of them are modern, but there are also older and/or non-Western selections included. I recommend reading this book at the most autumnal time of year in your area, just to add to the atmosphere of it all.
Fancy subtitle aside, this is an anthology of essays, poems, prayers, and nonfiction excerpts from larger works, all on the subject of autumn. The editors have divided the selections into five parts: change, endings, work, harvest, and thanksgiving. They do a good job of introducing both the parts and the individual pieces, so the entire anthology hangs together well. Only at the end did I wonder how well some of the individual pieces reflected their theme, but they were still good to read. The writings mostly come from North America and western Europe, and most of them are modern, but there are also older and/or non-Western selections included. I recommend reading this book at the most autumnal time of year in your area, just to add to the atmosphere of it all.
February 7, 2008
This anthology groups essays, poems, and short stories into one of several spiritual or emotional themes inherent in autumn (e.g. "Endings"). The beauty of this book is that there is a piece for every mood or time commitment. My favorite section is a collection by WWI poets and authors including Edward Thomas, and Siegfried Sasson.
March 4, 2011
A collection of essays, short stories, and excerpts from longer works all related to the season of Autumn. I enjoyed reading these pieces on slow Autumn mornings, savoring the images and words and reflecting on the changing of the season. There are collections in this series for each season, which should delight introspective lovers of words everywhere.
June 22, 2015
One of a four-book series with lovely illustrations and selections that will help you live in the moment of each season. One to return to year after year.
October 22, 2024
I read this every autumn and I never tire of it; it's like an old friend.
abandoned
April 15, 2016Read almost half of it and it was pretty good; it just didn't grip me enough to continue.
Displaying 1 - 10 of 10 reviews