I’ve never been a fan of summer. It’s weird, I know. Most people love it—lazy days on the beach, picnics, swimming, flip flops, oppressive (oops, there I go editorializing again) heat. But none of that is really my thing. When someone says summer I hear “sweating, bug bites, sunburns.” Blech.
But, fall is a different story. Fall is magical. There’s a great line in the movie You’ve Got Mail where Tom Hanks says (types, actually) “Don’t you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly-sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address.” Isn’t that lovely?
September has always felt like a new beginning to me far more than January ever has. When I was younger, I loved the start of a new school year (again with the weird hating-summer thing). Fall just always felt so full of possibilities and fresh starts. And just when the routine starts to become—well, routine, the holidays are just around the corner to shake things up again.
I love you, fall. I love your rich colors and your apple cider and your pumpkin-y, cinnamon-y baked goods. I love your school supplies and your cool, crisp air and everything about you. Well, except that you’re too short. But we can’t all be perfect.