"Come a little bit closer
Hear what I have to say
Just like children sleepin'
We could dream this night away.
But there's a full moon risin'
Let's go dancin' in the light
We know where the music's playin'
Let's go out and feel the night."
- Neil Young
When autumn rolls in this Tuesday, I know just what I'm going to do. I will fold the top down on our little BMW, pop in that old particular tape, and head out on a drive through the windy Connecticut backroads. The air will be a little cooler and the trees will begin to sway more freely, like withering half-dressed skeletons against the night.
Neil Young, "Harvest Moon." The album with the haunting cover of a dark silhouette and fringe across the water's edge. The song that made me yearn for the crackling fire, the hush of the woods, and the smell of burning gourds. The images that reminded me that, for all I ever believed myself to be a child of the summer, I was born under the stars of that flipped autumn sky.
"The Harvest Moon" is a pumpkin and spice cupcake crowned with a cream cheese buttercream. It is the most simple taste of autumn - in the flesh of the fruit, the cinnamon, the ginger, the nutmeg, all topped in a sweet cream - that evokes the unmistakable yearning for no other season but this. Leaves sauntering through the sky. The heavy crooked arms of apple trees bending to the ground in an abundant plie. The shifting patterns of birds as they take flight to their winter homes. The autumn dance.