I’ve been busier than planned in mundania for the last few weeks—hence the lag in my blog posts. I’m going to try and make it up to you by posting a couple more times during November, in hopes of restoring my blogger cred.

Here in Oregon (that’s Ory-Gun to you non-US-west-coasters), autumn has arrived for real, with the trees dropping leaves and nighttime temps creeping toward freezing. We’ve had some wind and rain, but we’ve had glorious weather, too—including a recent handful of days near 70 degrees.

Every year, when we have these postcard-perfect fall days, I hear people start talking about “Indian summer” this and “Indian summer” that, and I grimace a bit, because their use of the term isn’t quite right. Indian summer—the real deal—is something very special, and it’s more than simply a nice autumn day.

Indian summer is defined by the weather folks as a period of unexpectedly and unusually warm dry weather occurring in autumn after a hard “killing” frost. No one is certain when the term was first used, but weather records show it’s been around for at least a couple hundred years. A few locations have created regional adaptations. For instance, here in the Pacific Northwest, some people use the term “Indian summer” to describe a warm dry period occurring after the hard autumn rains have begun. That said, our climate in the Pacific Northwest has changed so much over the past two or three decades, I think it’s safest to cleave to the meteorological definition.

What does Indian summer do for us, magickally? It’s a reminder to treasure and appreciate the warmth and light, knowing that winter’s dark cold waits just around the corner. It’s a last chance to recharge, with bare toes wiggling in the grass and sun-kissed skin building vitamin D stores deep within. It’s a heads-up to stock the larder, literally and metaphorically, preparing for the long sleep of the winter months. Perhaps because of its proximity to our Thanksgiving holiday, I view Indian summer as a tangible emblem of gratitude, a reminder to be thankful for life’s riches and our ability to prepare, to stand against the coming barren, cold season.

For you, I wish that Indian summer blesses your hearth and home. And if it does, for goodness sake: get out there and enjoy it! Breathe deep of the warm air. Toss a handful of leaves into the air. Listen, listen, for the coming sounds of winter. Offer thanks…. Celebrate!