The Weight of a Season: How Fall Reminds Us to Slow Down

There’s something about fall that makes time feel heavier. The days shrink by minutes you can almost hear, and the air carries that faint scent of change. Apple pies baking, woodsmoke creeping in through the window of the neighbor’s chimney, something sweet and fleeting.

We start to notice what we’ve been rushing past. The mug we reach for every morning. The jacket that smells faintly of last year’s fires. The way sunlight leans through the window differently, softer now, like it knows it won’t be here long.

Maybe what fall teaches best is to not just to let go, but to linger. To stand still long enough to feel the weight of what’s already here.

When I think of Spoken Mementos, I think of this season. The in-between moments. The quiet before the cold. The urge to hold onto what warms us before it’s gone. So if life feels like it’s speeding ahead, take a breath. Notice what’s around you. What’s still steady, still beautiful, still yours. The memory you’ll miss most might already be happening.