I used to dislike fall because it meant I was back in school, the greenery was dying, and soon the dark slog through winter would begin. Over the past few years, however, I've come to enjoy this change of the seasons. The cooler temperatures are a relief from the sometimes oppressive heat and humidity here in the Mid Atlantic and the foliage really is beautiful; there have been hikes where the light through the yellow, orange, and red reminds me of a cathedral's stained glass.
I've got a pony named Maple now and she's a bit of autumn herself, really. Her browns and whites are entertainingly good camouflage in the pasture and she prefers the cooler weather, with the relief that it brings from the summer's insects. We are both working on our endurance and fitness and general manners. We are both works in progress.
Lastly, I came across a curated quote from the author Lin Yutang from his book My Country and My People that gets at what I'm beginning to learn to appreciate about fall:
I like spring, but it is too young. I like summer, but it is too proud. So I like best of all autumn, because its leaves are a little yellow, its tone mellower, its colours richer, and it is tinged a little with sorrow and a premonition of death. Its golden richness speaks not of the innocence of spring, nor of the power of summer, but of the mellowness and kindly wisdom of approaching age. It knows the limitations of life and is content. From a knowledge of those limitations and its richness of experience emerges a symphony of colours, richer than all, its green speaking of life and strength, its orange speaking of golden content and its purple of resignation and death.