While Florida may fall short of the grand autumnal splendor enjoyed by our northern friends, subtle signs herald the changing season here in the balmy subtropics. Instead of a frayed tapestry of lifeless leaves, we Floridians savor a dynamic collage of out-of-state license plates punctuated by a remarkable array of travel trailers. This kaleidoscope of brake lights and pithy bumper stickers occurs on or near the first frosts suffered by those states with names beginning with "M" or the adjective "new".
Responding to the waning Harvest Moon and shortening days, Suncoast residents who still have hair are finally able to let it down. Reduced humidity levels and declining dew points invite us to readjust our collective attitudes. If Hibiscus blossoms were scented, fall is when Floridians would pause to smell them.
Display windows in area department stores reflect the seasonal change with corduroy clad mannequins clumsily perched in golf carts or deck chairs. Fashionable locals exchange their summer flip-flops for deck shoes, and some even wear socks. Seersucker shorts casually morph into chino trousers that run the color gamut from khaki to taupe. If we must consider a sleeved shirt, madras and whimsical prints add timeless pizzazz to the any festive gathering. Just add sunglasses and a beverage cozy and we're good to go.
Florida's fauna are not immune to our climate's change. The sensitive mosquito goes into swampy hibernation, and residents delight in a respite from the saccharine scent of citronella. Native squirrels store dates and sea grapes in their snug tree cabanas carpeted with Spanish moss. Those armadillos who hit the road are frequently disappointed when the road hits back. Plastic flamingo flocks return to reclaim their natural habitat begrudgingly shared with ceramic Bambies and their ilk.
Yes, fall is nothing if not discreet to those accustomed to more ostentatious vistas, but is glaringly apparent in the daily mail. The Autumnal Equinox brings with it urgent requests for charitable donations that compete primarily with paid political advertising. A tsunami of mullet wrappers assaults Florida's driveways and mailboxes with sales pitches promising savings on products useful to area consumers. Surgical procedures or medications meant to enhance eyesight, hearing, and/or romance share page space with prepaid funeral packages. Seasonal demographics are a cash crop to savvy marketeers.
To new residents, Florida's idea of autumn may seem nothing more than innuendo, but to natives and returning snowbirds fall begins in the football stadium. The prelude to the first kick-off is the catalyst for fierce rivalries as rosters are revised when athletes-in-training are released on bond. Area tailgate banquets feature delectable regional favorites like gator tail, smoked amberjack, and buckets o'beer. Gas inflations takes on new meaning in the bleachers of Raymond James.
The most obvious measure of Florida's fall doesn't occur until the end of October when finally our clocks are restored to their proper settings. Morning commutes are less oppressive when sunlight takes the place of halogen. No longer in search of the lost hour, it seems easier to surrender the day when at last eleven PM feels like, well.....eleven PM. Fall days are just long enough to satisfy our respective shadows, and autumn evenings become simply sublime as the poignant grunts of feeding alligators lull us to sleep in our orthopedic beds.


Comments: 21
Ruth: Your community is what my community may someday resemble.
Carolyn: Thanks. I'm sure the kids would rather hear you laugh that scream.
Jina: I'm familiar with Central Florida's Fall traditions--wild hog jamborees, and turkey shoots.
Thanks everyone for reading. It's cool and sunny this morning, and 7:45 AM feels like 7:45 AM again!
With your usual humor and style, you've nudged me out of my midwestern preconceptions of Autumn. Until now, I had not given much thought to the seasonal patterns of Floridian wildlife - migrating snowbirds and plastic flamingos, disappointed armodillos and grunting alligators. You kept me chuckling the whole way through.
Sandy: Thank you for agreeing with Dannielle. You are women who both possess unlimited imaginations.
Aren't they precious!
Fabulous observations, verbalized as only you can.
Some people ski year-round down here. They're insane, of course.
P.S.
This is something I would send my grandmother...if she was still alive. She would have loved it.
Dawn: Thank you, too. Appreciate your response.
My first Fall in Bonita, I thought the first sign of fall in Lee County was when all those "dead" trees started showing up in the swamps. THEN the Snowbirds began to migrate ;>