The Fall Equinox is fast approaching. And this one is going to be a doozy. Not only does it signify the changing of the seasons, when day and night are equal in length, but this year it coincides with a new moon and a solar eclipse all within hours of each other. That’s a lot of astronomical activity.
For those of you who can account for all these cosmic gyrations, I applaud your ability to process all that astrological calculus. For the rest of us, I encourage you to just pick one of these anomalies and ponder its significance for you and your place in the universe.
For millennia, the autumnal equinox has held deep meaning across cultures. The Celts celebrated Mabon, honoring harvest and balance; Mesoamerican temples like Chichén Itzá tracked the sun’s alignment; some Native American tribes marked the season with hunting rituals; and in China, families gathered for mooncakes and family reunions. They all celebrated the fruits of their labors or just reminded folks to switch gears in preparation for the coming cold. It’s a shame, in the rapid heart rate of modern day, that we can’t sit still to take notice of this beautiful seasonal shift.
My family’s tradition is a bit younger in origin, but just as important. On the Equinox, we each write down a thought or belief we no longer want to carry. An idea we’d like to unyoke ourselves from. We write it down, fold up the slip of paper and walk it out to the backyard composter. One by one, we drop the notes into the the barrel and spin them into oblivion. It’s cathartic to imagine old patterns, fears, harmful beliefs all breaking down into something that will eventually nourish new growth.
Autumn is my favorite time of year, if you couldn’t already tell. Even in Southern California, where the seasonal differences are more associated with rain or wind, I feel a palpable change of mood and mind when the cooler mornings arrive.
For me, the signs of Fall arrive with the new school year, my kids struggling to get up on time after summer months of neglected bedtimes and multi-timezone adventures. The house is filled with complaints about homework and permission slips that need signing. The family calendar is already starting to buckle under the weight of after-school activities.
I also see signs of fall in the kitchen. I relish the recipes of soups, stews, braises, and roasted root vegetables. It's potato time, with hearty sauces that have bubbled away on the stove for hours. There is an uncontrollable urge to bite into crisp apples, and then bake them buried in brown sugar and butter.
Speaking of baking, my daughters’ relationship with the oven increases tenfold this time of year. Cookies miraculously appear on kitchen counters, and then mysteriously disappear with similar frequency. Months of overripe bananas are pulled from the freezer, thawed on the table, and folded into aromatic honey-sweet loaves. Chicken noodle soup makes its seasonal debut, made from a summer store of mixed bones (also from the freezer) and patiently stirred until my glasses fog.
My wine tastes even change in autumn. I transition away from the pool time whites and rosés, the more subtle red burgundies and cabernet francs, and lean into inky violet goblets of Grenache, Mourvedre, or velvety smooth Merlot. Sometimes I’ll splurge on tobacco-scented Petite Sirahs that coat my tongue and warm my belly.
The garden shifts as well. There are the pomegranates growing larger and redder, and the figs turning purple, at least the ones that have survived the relentless squirrel scavenging. The oranges are now big enough to notice on the trees even though they'll remain green for months. The herbs transition from cilantro and parsley to savory, rosemary, thyme, and sage. Garlic quantities increase, a subtle reminder to throw a whole head in the oven with whatever I might be roasting. The resulting golden spread is olfactory decadence when slathered on crusty bread.
I live in a college town and Fall wouldn’t be complete without recognizing the sudden increase in its traffic. Coffee shops and boutiques are overflowing with wide-eyed adolescents back for another year of academia. Parks fill with studious sunbathers sprawled across picnic blankets, while blackout-curtained cottages vibrate with heavy bass spilling out the windows of clandestine house parties.
I’m more aware of these nocturnal activities–although never invited to participate–because I commence my late night strolls with autumn’s cooler evenings. It’s hard to find time to exercise during the busy work/school days, so I often wait until everyone has gone to bed to wander the streets for an hour or so alone. Occasionally, my solitude interrupted by a nervous coyote or equally anxious dog walker.
Just this week, I took my first walk of the season (technically a little early). Pausing for just a moment, I exhaled, and for the first time in a year, I could see my breath visibly float into the moonlight. The weight of the last twelve months wafted away into the ether.
Fall asks us to come home—to our bodies, our kitchens, our families, and to lift our eyes to the sky. It is both cosmic and ordinary, an ancient reminder written in light and shadow, and a daily rhythm of homework, harvest, and late-night walks.
For me, it is an annual reboot: the composting of what no longer serves, and the storing up of what will carry me through the darker months. In its equilibrium of day and night, it reminds me to seek harmony in unexpected places—and to root my feet firmly in the ground, so that I too might fall into balance.
A Few Updates Before I Go
First, a bit of self promotion: Substack just named Enlightened Omnivore one of the Top 100 Rising Newsletters in Food & Drink. I’m humbled and grateful—and it wouldn’t have happened without you reading, sharing, and showing up here week after week. Thank you for being part of this journey.
Podcast
A few of you have asked about the podcast. Don’t worry—it’s not gone, just retooling. Season Two launches in November with thirteen weekly episodes running into early 2026. We’ll go deeper into the conversations you’ve told me you want more of, and I’ve got a few surprises planned. If there are voices you’d like me to interview, drop me a note.
Substack Live
Now that I’ve worked on the bugs with Substack Live, I plan to do more frequent Ask Me Anything sessions, and maybe even introduce a few of my friends. Stay tuned as they say.
Survey Winner
Lastly, thank you to everyone who filled out this year’s reader survey. Congratulations to Chad B., winner of the annual giveaway: an 8" Victorinox Chef’s Knife (plus a little EO swag).
As always, thank you—for reading, for sharing, for being here. Hug your loved ones, savor the season, and I’ll see you soon.
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Well done sir well done.
This is such a beautiful piece, Steve!