I don't think there's anything more perfect than the slow shift in light from summer to autumn.
Where I grew up, this is all there is. Everything, even in the midst of winter, stays green and warm and bright. Only the light moves between seasons, and for a just a few weeks, everything looks different. More and less real, more and less like a dream.
This light invigorates my entire body. I can feel my cell-recognition of this time of year-- it's a sacred time, a long, slow Earthen heartbeat, something that's happened over and over again for millions of years, and I feel my body's knowing of this. My bones want to bow down to it; my hands want to touch it, to wrap myself in it until the Earth's heartbeat matches my own.
Right now is when I feel closest to knowing the questions of who and what we are, where we came from and where we're going. The more I sense answers though, the less important it is to know. It's just being, being alive, that pure sensation. Nothing is more rapturous.