This past weekend was GORGEOUS. Okay, it was a little damp and overcast, but after lots of typical August heat and humidity it was a refreshing change. On Saturday the temperature really didn’t rise much and the humidity disappeared as the day wore on.
Some friends and I planned to pick apples and pears from a neighbor’s trees and it was as if the climate agreed to cooperate with our notion of apple-picking weather. It was a gift. And an unexpected one.
One of my friends commented on how fall feels like such a revelation each year. We know it’s coming, we’ve experienced it before, and yet the first crisp day feels like a gift we didn’t really think we’d get.
Summer and winter seem to arrive when I’m not really paying attention. I’ll be enjoying warmer or cooler days and then suddenly it will be full-on summer or winter. At that point I heave a sigh and resign myself to needing a shower every day or suffering with perpetually cold feet. And I’m usually looking so hard for spring that I celebrate each tiny, incremental change.
But the first day that truly feels like autumn is as if a curtain has been whisked back on a stage. One moment you’re dreaming of cool, crisp mornings and the next they’re here making you want to snuggle under the covers with the windows wide open.
I know some of you love summer and wish every day were a beach day. Some love winter and could ski for hours before retiring to a cozy fire. Some celebrate spring with her flowers (and pollen!). But I’m an autumn girl.
And this past weekend felt like it had been custom made just for me.
I have been smitten by sudden apple envy. Those are indeed a superlative example of your region’s bounty.
AND I made a pie. With ice cream. Mmmmm!
be over in a squirrel tail shake…