Last week was the fall equinox; last night, the temperature in the house dropped below 60 degrees and the heat kicked on (I could have toughed it out longer if it weren't for the baby).
The dogwood tree in the front yard is dropping its leaves, pumpkin and apple spice flavors have infused the world, the Patriots are playing football, and I'm wearing closed-toed shoes and sweatshirts once again. It must be autumn.
I'm a New England girl, and this is my favorite season.
I love when the swelter of summer makes way for crisp fall; when pumpkins, fancy gourds and maize suddenly fill grocery stores and farm stands; when the smell of cinnamon brooms and apple cider donuts greet me at the door to my local grocery store; and when...
I lost my train of thought. Apple cider donuts. Mmm. Fresh-made, I think those might be the best food in the entire world, and they only exist during apple picking season. The ones you find in grocery stores any other time of year aren't the same. I think I'll stop at Honey Pot Orchards to pick some up on my way to watch the game at my parents' house.
Have I mentioned chili, nachos, stews, soups, pot roast and turkey? I love the foods of autumn. Summer has watermelon, chicken salad, and fresh tomatoes of a dozen different sizes and colors- I think of tomatoes as one of nature's apologies for summer- but fall has all the warm, rich comfort dishes. Fall has candy corn, which I refuse to eat until October even though stores start selling it in August.
It's hard for me to imagine living in a place where the world doesn't completely transform with each of the seasons.
Fall is also writing season. I'm currently taking a break from desperately trying to finish revising the next novel I'm sending to my agent, which I promised I would have ready for the end of the month. Once it's in, I need to prepare for the next great adventure: National Novel Writing Month, part of what makes November the best month of the year (Thanksgiving and my daughter's birthday also help).
If I could capture the ten weeks from mid-September to the end of November in a snow globe, where I could live eternally in autumn...
I wouldn't, because what makes fall glorious is the change.