It has occurred to me that in a lost and searching culture that largely doesn’t know where else to place its faith, self-love campaigns,...

It’s spooky season, and the weather follows suit in a perpetual state of preparing for storm. A hazy filter settles over the world, casting pearl on the clouds, and brown on the fields, and bleakness in the horizon. Yet the vibrant fall colors reveal a deeper hue in light of the absent sun. The vivid autumn hillsides can make any town look like a New England one. I pass through a gateway of yellow trees with leaves that flutter down to take their place in the golden lacework