With a title like ‘Amazing Fall Instrumental Hygge Music‘ how can you go wrong? 

If that’s not hokey or cheesy enough for you, take a close look at the steam rising from the coffee cup in the video here. 

And that flickering flame on a perpetual loop… have you seen anything quite as precious?

I’m utterly transfixed, and as much as I want to shit all over this music and this video, I find myself watching and listening and giving in to the simplicity of a moment where I can merely breathe and be. That butternut squash and dried thistle on the tray don’t even bug me like they normally would. (Do you know how much work peeling the former is going to be?) 

Instead, I’m sort of zoning out, not quite meditating, but letting the thoughts come and go – the annoying and bothersome bits of frustration and anger from a typical day, the push and pull of worry and hope, the promised choice between joy and sorrow – and somehow the mind is eased, the burdens feel lighter. 

Maybe it’s the candle burning beside me in real life, and the active welcoming of hygge as we approach the holiday season. Maybe it’s the quietness of the attic as I write this, save for the music playing from this silly video. Maybe it’s just the embrace of something that I would have decried from cynicism and jadedness in the not-too-distant past.

Maybe I’m just worn out and tired, and the energy required to be angry or cruel feels more daunting than that required to simply let go and enjoy the ease and efforts of something designed and intended to bring calm and joy. Fighting can elicit a win, but I find the cost growing too great to keep it up. 

And so, on this Saturday morning, with Thanksgiving less than a week away, I invite you to sit down beside my virtual perch, to watch and get lost in the schmaltz of this video, and see if it doesn’t lighten your load, if only for a moment. 

The hints of people are what have always fascinated me. 

A lingering trace of cologne. 

An echo of a voice. 

Fragmented bits of melody.

Taken as one, what does such a pastiche of individual elements comprise?

Does the whole of a person come together from such personal effects?

What remains and what is lost?

The striking combination of these red Japanese maple leaves against a sky of blue shows just how wonderfully these color can work together. Would that we could take a lesson from nature and allow our own differences and beliefs to co-exist so beautifully, and so harmoniously. It’s disheartening to see a country, and a world, so ruinously fractured, and over such stupid things. I will choose to focus on beauty and goodness and truth, and all come together in the fall show put on by this Japanese maple tree. 

It’s glorious how November has, thus far, decided to enchant and illuminate its beauty. Too often it shrouds these views in mists of overcast haze, dim and rainy days, and storms that pull such prettiness from the sky far too soon. I feel enormous gratitude for the blue sky shown here, for the brilliant scarlet of the leaves set off by the sunlight, and for the gentle slope into the holiday season. 

The oak tree is always the last one to let go of its leaves, sometimes holding onto some through the winter and spring until a fresh crop finally pushes the lingerers out. For bagging purposes it’s a bit of a pain if you collect your leaves in the fall. Andy will get the ones off the lawn with a last mowing and then we’ll leave the rest for spring pick-up. They provide a mulch and cover for our front shrubs. 

For years I went through fall ignoring and not appreciating the beauty of these brown leaves, but this year I found a new gratitude for their subtle beauty, especially when the afternoon sun slants through their leathery forms. 

A November thunderstorm, according to my mother, may mean a milder winter is on the way. We’re hanging on to that notion, and we’ve both enjoyed storms as long as we can hunker down in a place of coziness and safety. On the afternoon these photos were taken, the thunder was rumbling in the sky, and I retreated to the attic where I looked out and saw this pine bough dripping with rain. Listening to this song, backed by the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof (and a comical scampering of a squirrel at one point), I felt a moment of calm and peace in the midst of the rain and wind raging in the air. 

That juxtaposition of dreary weather with the warmth and candlelight of the attic made things feel even more cozy – the very essence of hygge. Without the awful weather, the dim early descent of evenings, and the distant approach of winter, we couldn’t experience such coziness. 

This view is one of my favorites in the summer – it shows the towering tips of the fountain grass behind the boughs of a Chinese dogwood tree. Beyond is the pool, mirroring a blue sky. It’s a favorite because it signals summer and sun and warmth and fun. Last week the view wasn’t bad, but it was tinged with the sadness of impending slumber, the winter on its way. Still, until recently November has been relatively kind weather-wise, and I’m going to hold onto its glory and splendor for as long as it will let us. On with a briefer recap, because November is brief. 

What to do with all the tomatoes that would have otherwise gone to the frost. 

Autumn in New York. Upstate and otherwise.

A pair of quotes for a peaceful moment.

Emily Dickinson and autumn.

The words and wisdom of Seneca.

Daybreak in autumn.

Taylor Swift’s autumn heartbreak.

Autumnal meditation. Because we need it now more than ever. 

Dazzlers of the Day included Justin Tranter, Chella Man, Paul Rudd, Alicia Silverstone and Mr. T.

Real life sometimes gets in the way of online narratives, and so I have been largely absent from writing in any active voice these past few days, and weeks really. As personal as I sometimes get here, this hasn’t been the place for diary-like revelations in the moments in which they are happening, so I’ll process and maybe get back to them another time. I’m dealing with some parental care issues, and there honestly hasn’t been time to write much. Still, I’m told some people come here for inspiration or peace or just a silly break in their day, so I’ll continue at least a daily posting if I can. That may mean seeking out the words of others, which is never a bad thing, considering how much wonderful work exists in the world. 

Today mine will have to suffice, along with these photos of the Japanese coral bark maple at the corner of our house, putting on what is probably its finest show of the year. While Andy is partial to the chartreuse freshness that signals spring in its foliage, and I too enjoy that, particularly when juxtaposed with its vibrant bark, this is its final performance for the season. No one can say it doesn’t know how to give a good finale. 

As for this Sunday morning, and whatever may come along with it, I’m posting a video for which I’ve only used the sound as a backing track during a meditation. Some people find it easier to meditate when there is some ambient noise in the background. I don’t usually need it but on those days when the mind is particularly burdened and thoughts race across like wildfire, I’m not averse to playing this and letting it occupy what might otherwise be fertile ground for meddlesome distractions. It’s the same thing when people need a bit of white noise to fall asleep. (There are also some lovely Japanese maple images for those who only want to watch.)

My meditation practice these days is around 15 minutes every other day, but I’m getting back into increasing both the frequency and duration of that loose schedule. The calm and peace I get from it is more than worth carving out the time. It’s also a way of combatting the earlier descent of darkness in the day, and counteracting any seasonal affective disorder downers that begin creeping up on so many of us now. 

In the spirit of Seneca, I’m going to enjoy the singular moment at hand, indulging in these photos from a beautiful November day when the sun was recently shining in a sky perfectly tinted with blue.