Eight years old, walking down my upstate New York street, hunting my next crispy leaf to pounce upon, enveloped by cool crisp air.
Eleven years old, cringing at what the
area called autumn with temperatures in the eighties, daring to venture into the nineties. Sacramento
Thirteen years old, giving in to the obscene excuse for fall, I relish in the ever so slightly cooler temperatures of the Bay Area and my last year trick-or-treating in an on the fly costume.
Seventeen years old, the weather no longer marks the season; marching band, home game field shows, trying to not get hit in the head by a flag girl while wearing black, red, and white polyester.
Twenty-one years old, in a wheelchair, on crutches, time taken up not by school and work, but by physical therapy and doctor’s appointments. Life shines differently and I remember the pure joy of crunching a tired brittle leaf underfoot.
Twenty-four years old, then twenty-seven years old, barely on the cusp of the Bay Area, surrounded by leaves that actually change; as they burn crimson upon the vineyards’ vines.
Thirty years old, sharing my favorite autumn gift, I race my first born for the best leaves.
Thirty-three years old, I have to be quick, there are two supersonic kidlets chasing those fallen crispy critters now.
Thirty-six years old, joining my daughter’s class at the pumpkin patch, scouting out a Rapunzel costume for her, something scary for him this year – a first, digging out my husband’s frightful Uncle Charlie mask, stocking organic pumpkin puree for a GFCF baked delight, all the while keeping a watchful eye out for falling leaves waiting for someone to complete their life cycle, making them crinkle, crack, crunch under a shoe, injecting joy into my soul.
I adore autumn! And at Write on Edge, that's just what we're writing about today.
If you're curious why I love Autumn so much, I have gorgeous crimson leaves, pumpkins (scroll to the bottom to see the Yoda I carved) and more pumpkins (again, my Star Wars carving is the last pic), some yummy GFCF pumpkin bread, and of course, football!
I hope your fall is a fantastic one and a might bit cooler than the hot weather we're having...again! But, even with the high temps, I'm relishing all the other signs that fall is here: pumpkins, the grapes being harvested from the vines, leaves beginning to change color and soon I'll be crunching away as they drift to the ground.
What does fall mean for you?