wikipedia wrote:Etymology
The word autumn comes from the Old French word autompne (automne in modern French), and was later normalised to the original Latin word autumnus.[8] There are rare examples of its use as early as the 12th century, but it became common by the 16th century.
Before the 16th century, harvest was the term usually used to refer to the season. However, as more people gradually moved from working the land to living in towns (especially those who could read and write, the only people whose use of language we now know), the word harvest lost its reference to the time of year and came to refer only to the actual activity of reaping, and autumn, as well as fall, began to replace it as a reference to the season.[9][10]
The alternative word fall is now mostly a North American English word for the season. It traces its origins to old Germanic languages. The exact derivation is unclear, the Old English fiæll or feallan and the Old Norse fall all being possible candidates. However, these words all have the meaning "to fall from a height" and are clearly derived either from a common root or from each other. The term came to denote the season in 16th century England, a contraction of Middle English expressions like "fall of the leaf" and "fall of the year".[11]
During the 17th century, English emigration to the British colonies in North America was at its peak, and the new settlers took the English language with them. While the term fall gradually became obsolete in Britain, it became the more common term in North America, where autumn is nonetheless preferred in scientific and often in literary contexts.[citation needed]
Although I didn't always love autumn. As a kid I grew up in locales which did not really experience a change of seasons and all autumn meant was summer was over and I had to go back to school. Now that I am probably closer to my death than my birth I find autumn a bitter sweet pleasure. While I ought to be harvesting the fruits of my labors I find that I was really just a lazy son of a bitch for most of my life. Regrets, oh yah, I've had a few. But melancholia has it's charms too.
Rainer Maria Rilke wrote:Who now has no house, will not build one (anymore).
Who now is alone, will remain so for long,
will wake, and read, and write long letters
and back and forth on the boulevards
will restlessly wander, while the leaves blow.
