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Finns are rarely caught praising the Finnish weather. Still, once they have lived for a while in warmer climates, they often admit to missing the sharply marked seasons of the North. I very much can relate to that and I think every season in Finland has its own bag of wonders. Still, the season to which I feel most attached is autumn. And here is why.

Like all the other seasons, autumn is actually not only one season, but three – at least at our latitudes. First there is the golden early autumn, Indian Summer with often warm days, where the leaves dress in flaming colors. This is the part most people favorably connect autumn with. Then, there is late autumn, where it becomes indistinguishable from winter. The land and trees are often covered with spectacular displays of hoar-frost, or snow is already transforming the landscape, lightening up the long and dark nights. Finally, there is the rarely loved time in-between, where the trees have shed all splendour and only show their bare-boned structures. The sky is often suitably grey and even on sunny days the colors are washed-out and subdued. I think even this part of autumn has its charm. It used to be the time when, after harvest, people started to calm down and settle for the winter. A time of silence, when even birdsong had muted and only high winds provided nature’s melody. A time of introspection when we have the opportunity to slow down, think and re-orient ourselves.