When autumn comes, it doesn’t ask.
It just walks in where it left you last.
You never know when it starts
until there’s fog inside the glass
around your summer heart.
What reminds you of fall?
For me, it’s John Mayer’s “Heavier Things.” Buying the album on CD that first fall of my freshman year with cash from my first job. Watching the fog clear on the windshield of my old Corolla — the one before the one I’m currently selling, now that the minivan life has taken its hold. Listening to “Clarity” while I felt both too young and too old at college.
It’s dinner in the slow cooker — stews, chili. Chicken and wild rice soup.
Warm quilts. Sweatpants. Candy corn.
Stowing away flip-flops, digging out boots. Warm, sunny afternoons and crisp evenings.
Mums on porches. Mornings thick with dew. Finding last season’s jackets and slipping little arms into their sleeves, wondering if anything still fits.
This year, it’s also my son pointing out each crispy leaf, asking if we’re any closer to Halloween. Excitedly announcing that “it’s fall time!” with a commitment to giving a home to any lonely pumpkin we see … just like his mama.
My heart is not a summer heart. I adore spring, when my babies were born, and winter has its cozy charms.
But fall is still my favorite. Let’s get started.