What if I told you that I think autumn is the perfect pick-me-up for the post summer blues? Yep, sorry, I am one of those – optimism is key.

In normal times, when autumn rolls around, I can’t help but feel excited. It is my favourite season. I love the freshness in the air, and the new term feeling that ripples through society. It is the perfect pick-me-up for the post summer blues.

Granted, this year, things have looked a little different. The freshness has been staled by the virus clinging to the air and the new term hasn’t been overly successful for British universities… Summer 2020 was a relatively blue time anyway. On the B&Q paint chart scale, summer was sky blue, making the post-summer blues at least navy, if not full on midnight blue (they are different, I Googled it). This means that autumn – after overcoming the shock of the astounding number of different blues – has an even bigger job than normal, with more shades to battle through in order to successfully pick society up.

Like I said, optimism is key.

It is, however, important to remember that this is not autumn’s fault, and we should not let it tarnish our view of nature. Repeat after me: the seasons are not to blame.

It’s easier said than done, but to lift our spirits and warm our feelings towards the dying leaves, I propose we get some Scottish music blaring through our Spotify.

To me, Scottish music has always been nostalgic of autumn at its absolute best. There is something about the instrumentals of Scottish bands which reflect the atmosphere of autumn. It is upbeat, yet ever so slightly melancholic. It is optimistic, yet realistic. It marks the perfect balance of acceptance that something is over, and the excitement of the life to come.

Ceilidh music is reminiscent of the contrast of the sweltering ceilidh hall and the crisp air of the dark outdoors. Upon entering the ceilidh venue, usually a freezing village hall with a random assortment of lights to create “atmosphere,” it is impossible to imagine ever being warm again. By the end of the evening, we long for the cool we felt prior to three rounds of Strip the Willow.

As thousands of ceilidh dancers learn every year, Scottish autumn air is simultaneously the most effective and most comfortable cooling technique known to man. Too dark to see each other’s red faces, we can revive in peace, before returning indoors at a suitable temperature.

If you are unfamiliar with the art of ceilidh dancing, do not fret. Type Skipinnish into your search bar and let every song remind you of the golden 3pm light, which could cast beauty on the dreariest of corners. Their descriptions of beaches and waves take me to October walks, where the air is icy and the sun low in the sky. I imagine the protagonists of their songs wrapped in scarves and woolly jumpers. Layers on a beach feels contradictory in a way that is wholly unique to Scotland; they are usually required on Scottish beaches regardless of the season. In summer, wrapping up feels disappointing, but in autumn the oblivion to the sand in your shoes due to your double socked foot is comforting.

In this year’s turbulent world, Scotland can find reliability and grounding in autumn. It is steady in the way other seasons are not: summer can be heatwaves or rainstorms, spring can begin in March or in May, winter can bring a deep freeze or mild temperatures. In Autumn, however, the golden days are guaranteed. We know that the leaves will turn red in September, that the light will begin to die in October, and that the cold will settle in November. Autumn is ever faithful.

As we look down the tunnel of a long covid winter, a listen to Far Side of the World by Tidelines might help to dilute the blues. Let the beat of the Scottish drums bring hope that life will return to normal, and that a blue-chart-less summer will come again. 

Sophie Parsons is a recent graduate of the University of Edinburgh with a degree in French.