by Anamaria Palacios '29 on October 1, 2026
Opinion
As we enter a stretch of fog, chilly winds, and misty mornings, I can’t help but long for what’s to come. September, October, and sometimes November—depending on the volatility of New England’s climate—bring a sense of change and renewal. Fall, in my opinion, is the best season of the year. In fact, one of the biggest factors in my decision to attend Providence College was the anticipation of a Rhode Island autumn. Fall steals students from the grasp of summer sloth, bringing them into warm shelter, fashioned with essays and Civ readings. It is a reminder of the wicked winter to come, setting the earth ablaze in dazzling shades of orange, brown, and maroon. Accompanying the feverishly fluctuating flora are other staples of the autumnal reign. Warm smells of cinnamon, cardamom, and clove can be found wafting around farmers’ markets and local HomeGoods. Pumpkin, apple, maple, and caramel treats line store shelves. Thanksgiving and Halloween draw friends and family near, whether gathered around a bountiful plate of turkey and stuffing, or arm-in-arm in costumes on an adventure down Eaton St. Shorts become sweatpants, sunglasses become scarves, and flip-flops turn into flannels.
However, what I love most about fall is the metamorphosis that comes with it. Every autumn in my life has been an incredibly transitory period, a time of self-reflection and a farewell to the summer I leave behind. No two Septembers are the same; no Octobers are parallel. In a way, I find myself changing with the earth. Though autumn is associated with death, it is a necessary step in preparation for the liveliness of spring. We, too, can undergo a certain pause. Fall is a time of isolation. Not of loneliness, but of readiness for the excitement of a new, springtime self. In other words, the lock in is often worth it. So, when you walk around campus this fall—a campus decorated with hoodies and acorns—it may be worthwhile to think about what you might want to change about yourself for the better. Will your hibernation be one of laziness and passivity, or of self-growth and revival? Turn over a new leaf. Consider beginning your own transition into a new academic year, seeking to evolve and paint the world in your own color—and have an apple cider or two in the meantime.