AUTUMN IN EUROPE
Growing up in the U.S on the West Coast, Autumn meant a road trip further North to visit Grandma and the family. Those trips left an indelible impression on me shaping my preferences for the kind of climate I’d want to spend my life in as an adult. Everything about Autumn resonated with me. The slowing down and coming together with people I absolutely adored. The Harvest and the big dinners and late brunches together, the apple picking and pumpkin patches, the long walks through the neighborhood, kicking through the Japanese Maple and Oak tree leaves which blanketed the sidewalks and absolutely intoxicating scent of the earth. You can’t unsee that, you can’t unfeel the way you felt, and I long for recreating it every year. Truth.
Fast forward a bunch of years… I discovered Rick Steve’s Travel’s in Europe on PBS. I taped the weekly episodes on my VCR and looked forward to hosting a group of girlfriends for what I called an ‘International Exploration” of a culture, its cuisine, wine and film – usually French but it varied depending on Rick’s episode. I was destined to land in Europe, at least for a time, not forever but for a chapter.
I digress….
But as an American living in abroad in Northern Europe, my appreciation for this very special time of year has deepened. One of my favorite aspects of the European lifestyle, aside for exploring the history and the scent of wood burning fireplaces within city limits, is the culture of slowing down, and Autumn here seems to encourage that even more. I’ve learned to savor the shorter days by creating hygge, the Danish art of coziness, or gemütlichkeit in German. Hanging the Christmas lights early, lighting candles, pulling the bear rugs out of the trunk, making soups and my latest iteration of Flammkuchen. Spending time with the people I care about and missing those who who aren’t near, is what completes me and fills me with a sense of constant gratitude. The big dinners, late brunches, early morning walks with my Hafermilch latte in hand are still with me. I always feel as though new life is just beginning, a time of germination in this season. It’s just slow enough here to find the headspace to reflect, dream big, and start anew come Spring