This is my fourth year in the East Coast and I can honestly say that autumn is my favorite season. There's something magical and wonderful about the way the leaves turn red, yellow and orange and how the air is cool but not freezing. Some poets see death in the falling of the leaves and the shortening of the day as though this season stand for nothing but loss or sadness. But is death not a necessity for change? And what is autumn if not the world changing, dying unto itself so that a new world can be born again? What is death in autumn if not the chance to start over? And if autumn is truly nothing but death, then is it not the most beautiful of endings - an explosion of inspiring color and beauty, the world burning to its inevitable but magnificent end.
I seem to have gotten sidetracked. What I'm really trying to say is that, autumn is beautiful in New York, especially upstate in Cold Spring. Cold Spring is a small town, about an hour and a half by metro north. It is surrounded by mountains and hills that are good for trekking. It also has a park beside the river, perfect for strolling and photos. The town also has a several quaint restaurants, hotels and vintage shops. No wonder hipsters come all the way from Brooklyn to see this town. Pictures below! Can't wait for all this snow to finally melt.