I really love Fall. I know it shouldn’t be capitalized, but I think of it as a proper noun every time I see the word in my head (I really do for every season; I think they should be capitalized, at least when referring to Spring and Fall as to not be confused with the verb, but I digress…). It has the best weather (at least in the Midwest), my birthday, and my favorite holiday: Halloween. I call it jeans and sweatshirt weather, and that’s because I’m a jeans and t-shirt kind of girl. I always have been. Fall is comfortable, and it makes me want chili and cornbread, horror movies, and a fleece throw draped over me while I read a magazine, book, or blog.
Then, of course, there’s the smell of burning everything in the air: leaves, trees, and grass clippings — the last cuts of the season. Ah, the transition to winter can be at times chilling and sizzling. Little blips of summer creep through with bright rays of sunshine and clear, cloudless skies. You start the day in a sweatshirt and jeans, only to end up in a t-shirt and shorts to make a grocery run for dinner. Your hair up in a ponytail or bandanna, constantly, because you don’t like sweaty little hairs glued to the back of your neck; but the stealthy northern breezes send deep chills down your spine.
Orange glowing bonfires peek out between houses from cramped and campy backyard celebrations. Could it really be too cool for hot dogs and burgers? Not if it isn’t too cool for a dish of ice cream after. Shared on the back porch under an ebony velvet sky punched with sterling silver studs, and a serving platter moon bearing the sun’s reflection from the other side of the planet.
Reds, yellows, and oranges meet us from the tops of the trees and dazzle against the bleary gray of the cement beneath our feet. Grasses yellow, fading after the glamour of a Summer emerald. What appears to be shriveling before winter is huddling, preparing for the cold about to be by paring the flesh away and spending the fruits of Spring. It’s metamorphosis; it’s transition; it’s change personified. Nearly tangible. Inhaled like the acrid smoke from that bonfire, warming your hands while a welcoming beverage warms your body. Welcoming laughter warming the season.
Could there be anything better than Fall?