Culturally, autumn has always been a season of harvest and closure. Farmers bring in the last crops; gardens are mulched and put to rest. The vibrant colours mirror this human rhythm: a final celebration before the quiet. Poets from Keats to Mary Oliver have found in autumn a bittersweet metaphor for aging and beauty. “Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,” Keats wrote, capturing how the season’s richness is inseparable from its sense of ending.
The transformation of leaf colour is a chemical process triggered by environmental cues.
