A Final Thought: Six reasons why fall's the worst season
By Mitch Allen
This is the time when many people in Northeast Ohio start rushing the onset of fall. Well, not me. I’m not a big fan of autumn. Why? I’m so glad you asked:
Fall Spices
There’s a difference between herbs and spices. Herbs are the leafy green parts of aromatic plants, including basil, thyme, parsley, rosemary and cilantro—fragrant and supple leaves that grow in my raised bed gardens every summer.
And then there are spices, those other parts of the plant, including roots, stems, bark and seeds. These withered remnants are completely mummified and—like their Halloween counterparts—rise each autumn from their spice cabinet tombs in little jars stamped with expiration dates from the Reagan administration.
You know their names: cinnamon, nutmeg, allspice, clove, and all of their noxious kin. They’re crushed and ground, filed and grated, and autumnal zombies jacked up on marketing hype combine them with pumpkin and add them to muffins, lattes, fruitcakes and—Heaven, help us—beer.
Fall Color
Triggered by shortening daylight, many trees develop a cork-like layer of cells at the base of their leaves called the “abscission layer,” which slowly begins to block the veins that carry nutrient-rich fluids out into the leaves.
That’s right, those beautiful fall leaves are choking to death.
As the death grip tightens, each leaf loses its ability to produce chlorophyll, the chemical that gives leaves their bright, green color. As the green slowly disappears, another chemical pigment present in the leaves is revealed—carotenoids—which produce yellow, orange, and brown colors not only in leaves, but also in corn, carrots, daffodils and bananas.
The death grip also blocks the flow from the leaf to its branch, allowing excess sugars to build up in the leaves of certain species, producing anthocyanins, the pigment that also gives rich color to cranberries, red apples, blueberries and strawberries. Yeah, fall’s great.
School Buses
Apparently “No Child Left Behind” means that school buses must stop at every single kid’s house out of fear that one of the little future leaders won’t make it to the bus stop and, therefore, be left behind.
Of course, this makes the rest of us late for work as we have to sit in a cloud of exhaust and wait repeatedly while another proud father in a bathrobe and holding a cup of coffee escorts his progeny to the magic folding door, only to saunter s-l-o-w-l-y back to his driveway.
Putting Away the Polos
Working in a small office environment where “business casual” is the order of the day, short-sleeved Polo shirts are my go-to attire from mid-May to late September. They’re cool, comfortable and by wearing them constantly I achieve a stylish farmer’s tan without actually moving to Medina County and buying a tractor.
If I have a client meeting, I pair the Polo with khakis. If not, you may find me in matching madrigal shorts and sockless Docksiders. If it’s a work-from-home-day, well, you don’t want to ring the doorbell.
Yellow Jackets
Have you ever noticed that yellow jackets become more aggressive in the fall, coming after your pumpkin latte as if it were crack cocaine? That’s because they’ve all been given the boot—by the queen.
“But I thought we had something special?”
In the fall, the queen stops laying eggs and tells everyone—the male drones and the female workers—to get out. And because there’s no severance package or lump sum alimony payment, none of these poor creatures has the money to winter over at an all-inclusive resort in Mexico.
Instead, the downsized yellow jackets have to fend for themselves, invading late-season picnics and outdoor dining establishments in search of something sweet, typically a Coca-Cola—or a pumpkin beer.
Pumpkins
Okay, pumpkins are a squash, technically cucurbita pepo. And like all squashes, they’re gross. Plus, they’re orange.
“Orange is my favorite color,” said no one ever.
And never, ever bake a pumpkin pie. Remember, it’s a squash. You’re not fooling anybody. Besides, why make a pumpkin pie when there is chocolate in the world? If you see a pumpkin, do what the name suggests.
Squash it.
And don’t get me started on mums.