I've always hated fall. When I was a little girl my dad would say that it was his favorite season and I would stare back at him in shock.
Crazy old guy. Doesn't have a clue in the world. How could his favorite season be fall? It means winter is coming! It means school! It means summer is as far away from us as it possibly can be!
It's just... let's see...how do I describe my love for summer? It has always been... Intense. Passionate. Overbeating. Bordering on obsessive.
When other girls scribbled "I love Brad" in their notebooks, I scribbled "I love summer." And it is due to this fierce loyalty to June, July, and August that I saw anything that followed it as an immediate threat. Something that was never to be encouraged or enjoyed, rather it was to be loathed and detested.
Summer was swimming and vacations and no school and sun tans and sleeping in and it was everything I loved. Fall was an end to all of those things and the beginning of school and homework and early mornings and shorter days and cold weather. Each year with the first changing leaves, I would grieve.
This marks the real end of the summer. Even the trees know it now.
For three years in a row, I went as far as to skip out on fall completely. In 2006, I fled to Hawaii for the fall and in both 2007 and 2008 I was in Argentina. I didn't want to deal with the mourning process of losing summer again. Instead, I ran away from fall to places of eternal summer and endless sunshine.
This year I realize an apology is in order. So, fall, here it is.....
(you better enjoy it, you're only getting this once!)
I'm sorry.
You see, I know now that I have long underestimated fall. It is beautiful. Suddenly I realize that gone are the 100 degree plus days, sitting in front of the fan trying to get cool, with an air conditioner that doesn't come close to doing the trick. Gone are the sweltering cars. Gone are the merciless sunburns. Instead the weather is in the low 80s, still warm and pleasant, and yet a far cry from the miserable levels of heat inflicted upon me in the summer.
Gone is the crazy panic of summer, the chaos, the urgency. Fall has settled in as a much more simple, relaxed season. Comfortable with itself. Summer is insecure and has this constant need to please everyone, whereas fall makes no excuses and says simply "This is it. Enjoy it if you want." If the seasons were entertrainers, summer would be up there, center stage, juggling, dancing, singing, trying with all her might to get your undivided attention. While fall would be in the background just playing a pretty song on the piano, not really caring if you notice or not.
This September has been a sweet
, dare I say,
sublime, month. I don't think there's been even an hour of bad weather, and the days continue to be long and inviting. I can wear short sleeves or long sleeves, pants or a skirt, fall doesn't care. He invites all of my clothes. Fall is summer without it's edge. Without it's harshness. Without it's demandingness.
I've missed out on the beauty of 25 falls because I was too distracted grieving the passing of summer. I'll always love summer and its craziness and spontaneity. But now I love fall just as much. And maybe more. Say it's a change of heart. Say it's a part of growing up. But from here on out I'm a-welcoming fall with open arms.
(But to winter I say, my feelings haven't changed a bit, and I will always hate you.)
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| Hubs and me on our fall getaway to St. George |
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| A fall evening drive to Wal-mart for groceries yielded this beauty. Not bad, fall, not bad. |
