I don’t know about you, but over the last week or so, I’ve really noticed the change.

The evenings are suddenly darker. There’s a definite chill in the air, and that lovely feeling of stepping outside without thinking about a jacket seems to have disappeared almost overnight.

The bigger coats are making an appearance, and it probably won’t be long before we’re hunting out the hats, scarves and gloves again.

And I have to admit, I’m feeling a little sad about it.

Not quite mourning summer, perhaps, but certainly feeling the loss of those long, light evenings, warm days, holidays and the freedom that seems to come with them.

There’s something wonderful about summer. The feeling that there’s always time for one more walk, another hour in the garden or a spontaneous adventure because it’s still light outside.

And then, almost without warning, autumn arrives to remind us that nothing stays the same forever.

Learning to Love the Changing Seasons

But perhaps that’s not such a bad thing.

I’ve been thinking recently about how easy it is to spend our time looking backwards at what we’ve enjoyed or forwards to what comes next, without appreciating where we are right now.

We spend the winter wishing for summer, and then when summer arrives, we’re already thinking about holidays, plans and everything we want to squeeze into those precious weeks.

Before we know it, we’re pulling on our winter coats again.

So perhaps this year, rather than grumbling about the darker evenings and colder mornings (although I reserve the right to do a little of that!), I’m going to try embracing the change.

Because autumn has plenty going for it too.

The beautiful colours appearing on the trees. That lovely crisp feeling on a sunny morning. The sound of leaves crunching underfoot.

And, of course, the perfectly reasonable excuse to curl up on the sofa with a blanket, a good film and something warm to drink.

What’s not to love?

Finding Joy in the Little Things

One of the things I appreciate about Humanism is its encouragement to make the most of the one life we know we have.

Not necessarily through grand adventures or extraordinary achievements, but through the everyday experiences, relationships and connections that give our lives meaning.

And perhaps autumn is a good reminder of that.

Just because the evenings are darker doesn’t mean the adventures have to stop.

We can still pull on our boots and head out for a walk. Meet friends for coffee and a blether. Get the family around the table for a board game (although whether that ends in laughter or a family dispute is another matter entirely!)

We can make plans, try something new or simply enjoy a quieter pace before the madness of the festive season begins.

Sometimes the moments we remember most aren’t the big occasions we’ve spent months organising.

They’re the ordinary afternoons, unexpected conversations and spontaneous little adventures that somehow become special.

The Seasons of Life

Working as a Humanist celebrant, I’m often reminded of how much our lives are shaped by change.

As a wedding celebrant, I have the privilege of standing alongside couples as they begin a new chapter together, full of excitement, hope and plans for the future.

As a funeral celebrant, I hear stories of lives lived through many different seasons. Stories of love, laughter, challenges, resilience and the memories that remain with those left behind.

And in naming ceremonies, we celebrate the possibilities of a whole life still waiting to unfold.

Different moments, different emotions, but all connected by something very human.

Change.

Life doesn’t stand still, and perhaps we wouldn’t really want it to.

Our circumstances change. Our families grow. Friendships develop. We say goodbye to some chapters and welcome others.

Some changes are exciting. Others are difficult. Some take a little getting used to.

And that’s okay.

Humanism doesn’t ask us to be endlessly positive or pretend that every change is wonderful. It encourages us to acknowledge our feelings, support one another and find meaning in the experiences we share.

Perhaps the changing seasons are simply another gentle reminder to appreciate what we have while we have it.

A Different Kind of Light

And then there’s something rather lovely about what comes next.

Before too long, the Christmas lights will begin appearing in windows, gardens and streets.

The daylight might be fading earlier, but we’ll find other ways to brighten the evenings.

There’ll be festive gatherings, cosy nights, perhaps a few celebrations with friends and family, and hopefully some opportunities to slow down and enjoy being together.

It won’t be the sunshine of summer.

But it’ll be a different kind of light.

And I rather like that thought.

There’s Always Another Adventure Ahead

Of course, none of this means we can’t look forward to next summer.

I certainly will be!

There’s nothing wrong with dreaming about future holidays, adventures and long sunny days. Having something to look forward to is one of life’s pleasures.

But I don’t want to spend the next few months simply waiting for the sunshine to return.

There’s a whole season of memories waiting to be made between now and then.

And perhaps that’s the real lesson in all of this.

We can’t stop the seasons changing, any more than we can stop life moving forward.

But we can choose how we respond.

We can appreciate what has passed, embrace what’s in front of us and look forward to what might come next.

We can find joy in the little things, make time for the people who matter and remember that even the darker days have something to offer.

And as for the Scottish weather?

Well, there’s a wonderful bit of Billy Connolly-style wisdom that feels particularly appropriate at this time of year: there’s no such thing as the wrong weather, just the wrong clothes.

So perhaps the answer is simple.

Dig out the bigger jacket, find the woolly hat, and get out there anyway.

After all, life’s too short to spend half of it waiting for summer!

About the Author

Morag Webster is a Humanist celebrant, Director of Fuze Ceremonies and Chair of The Fuze Foundation.

Passionate about people, connection and celebrating life’s meaningful moments, Morag brings warmth, compassion and a personal touch to the weddings, funerals and naming ceremonies she conducts across Scotland.

Her Humanist values extend well beyond her work as a celebrant. Through The Fuze Foundation and her involvement in local community volunteering, she is committed to kindness, inclusion and making a positive difference wherever she can.

When she’s not writing ceremonies or supporting the Foundation’s work, Morag enjoys spending time with her family, getting outdoors and appreciating life’s little adventures.  Whatever the Scottish weather decides to throw at her!