THERE are few better feelings than those evoked by an autumn day. Patrick Kavanagh knew that when he strolled down Raglan Road. But the reason we love his poem so much is because we relate to it.

The particular light of autumn catching the colours of the dying leaves creates a unique warmth, solace and inner peace. No rose can match the deep reds of a cherry tree’s leaves changing for its time of hibernation. No citrus fruits imbue the burnt orange glow of beech hedges protecting small birds getting ready for the frosts. The fresh, chilly air, not yet with its winter bite, can reinvigorate us and remind us that the outdoors is our best medicine in times of turmoil. Whether alone, or with family or friends, to pick rosehips, catch conkers and just breathe more deeply as the sun sets early is surely a magical connection.

Is it any wonder Kavanagh fell in love so hard when surrounded by an autumn’s day?

And the wonderfulness of autumn does not stop or begin at our front doors. The season of shortened days and encroaching nights invokes the urge to light fires and candles. To shake out the woollen blankets and comfy cardigans. Many of us begin to put down the chutneys and preserves for the coming seasonal celebrations. Many more will make the comforting soups, stews, crumbles and pies which summer rejects. And we share those spaces and dishes with those we love and wish to care for. For that is the joy of a season which is about nurturing and reconnecting.

In a world where sadness and fear reign, surely the greatest gift we can give ourselves is the reminder that while the approach of short days and long nights can impact our mental health and create anxiety in a unique way, the cure lies outside outdoors, in our gardens, in our streets and in our parks.

In our own homes, meanwhile, in our pockets and handbags, lie devices that can be terrifically enriching, but our mobile phones and the social media apps and snippets on them can also cause harm. Unending images of horror. Latest spins on political stories. Unending pressures to be perfectly perfect. And the opportunity for the sinister. Who would choose to place those in their pockets? But we do with our phones. Add to that 24-hour news cycles in whatever form we inhale them, and we are vulnerable.

A gift our family gave ourselves two years ago was changing our morning routine, away from ‘Good Morning’ news bulletins and politics, followed by a helping of hate-fuelled hysteria on the radio to a simple alarm clock and calm mornings of breakfast and reflection. It seemed like a huge step at the time, but it improved our wellbeing overnight. And choosing to purposefully notice the birdsong in our small garden and the changing seasons’ light created a new enrichment.

Last week, though, being early night types, we managed to miss the Aurora Borealis for the second time this year. And social media was filled with the joy of so many people connecting with nature’s symphony of light. It was an indication of what modern media could be if the toxic was put aside.