This story is part of our October 2025 issue. To read the print version, click here.

We were driving through a small town in northern New Jersey one October when we saw a huge pile of leaves someone had raked into a mound. We looked at each other with big smiles, pulled over, ran with abandon and jumped into that leafy patch. No, we weren’t schoolgirls having fun, but three women in their 50s reliving their childhood. Seeing autumn leaves always brings back that memory as we enter into the fall season — my favorite time of year.

I’m not someone who’s buying pumpkin spiced lattes in August when Starbuck’s brings them back or putting out all the Halloween decorations the day after Labor Day. But when the calendar flips to October, the inner child within me awakens. It’s the month of my birth, and as a young girl, once my birthday occurred mid-month, all the good times a kid could have growing up started to happen afterwards — the trifecta of fun holidays. First, there was Halloween, when I would sometimes make my own costume or get one of those old-fashioned ones with the plastic face masks. Being a hobo was popular, but better yet was being a princess with a jeweled crown and scepter. Although those costumes were cheap, in childhood it didn’t matter. We were transformed for a night into something from our imagination. My small town held a parade for all the kids and had a costume contest afterwards, which I won once! When we got home, we dumped our candy bucket out to see our haul. None of us ever got an apple with a razor blade in it, as our parents warned us about.

Then came Thanksgiving with the huge dinner at my Aunt Ann’s house with all the aunts, uncles and cousins. (My mother came from a family of 11 kids.) She had a very long dining room table and for the kids, a card table just for us to eat together. My aunt was a great baker and made all the pumpkin and apple pies and Polish desserts like kolaczki — flaky crust made with cream cheese and butter and filled with apricot jam — and makowiec — a rolled yeast cake filled with sweet poppy seeds, nuts and raisins. Next came Christmas, and for a little girl, it was magical. We lived in a tiny apartment, and even though Mom and Dad were both factory workers, my brother and I would wake up to the entire living room filled with wrapped gifts for us. I got my Chatty Cathy doll, Little Red Spinning Wheel, Easy-Bake oven and Barbie dolls. How they afforded that and where they hid them will forever remain a mystery.

I’ve learned throughout life that people prefer different seasons for a reason. For some, like me, a certain season represents their birthday. For others, it’s the memories of a sun-kissed summer of going to the beach or lake, or the splendor of spring when our gardens renew and colorful tulips, irises and hyacinths bloom. I have one friend who welcomes the chilly embrace of winter. She calls it her cozy time when she can curl up under a blanket with a good book and slow down.

The change of seasons can even affect our bodies. We’re aware of circadian rhythms, our body’s internal 24-hour clock of awakeness and sleep. When fall arrives and winter kicks in, we get less daylight, so our serotonin levels drop and melatonin increases, which can lead to more fatigue and general laziness. It’s almost as if our body clock is nudging us to slow down. We race around all year long with our busy schedules, and the winter season almost forces us to take a rest. When spring and more sunshine returns, our serotonin levels rise again, that’s why we may feel a reawakening. We can’t wait to head outside once again and soak in the returning longer days and more daylight.

It’s not surprising that I typically return to my native New Jersey in autumn. The fall season is well, just more spectacular there, or maybe it’s the memories that are conjured up when the air is crisp and the trees turn into technicolor shades of red, orange and gold. Here in Northern California, we could still be wearing shorts and flip-flops in October and don’t really see the leaves change in the Sierra Nevada until November.

So bring on the sweater weather, football, all the soup and cool mornings in bed when you can finally pull a blanket over you and not sweat. Crunch the leaves underfoot as you walk and watch migratory  birds fly south in unison along the Pacific Flyway.

Soon, if I haven’t already done so, I’ll have my daughters or grandson take me to a pumpkin patch where I can gleefully go on a hayride, pick pumpkins in the field, sip fresh apple cider and dig into apple pie. While I once took them there to celebrate the joys of the season, now they help me keep those wonderful fall memories alive.

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