i heart fall

Fall has always been my favorite season. Not just because my birthday is at the end of October, or because I love Halloween, but because of how it always was. I'd be walking along one day, and a breeze, so crisp and clean, would make me think that I needed a jacket. And for every day after that, I'd need a jacket, until the eventual start of winter wherein I needed a coat. But in fall, it's just the jacket and the crisp clean air.

Fall is changing leaf colors. I was fortunate enough to go to college (go Virginia Tech!) and law school (go WVU!) in the mountains, where the trees just put to shame any work of art hanging in some museum. And I love big piles of leaves, because when I was in high school and mowing lawns for money all summer, leaves meant that I still had a chance to swindle my neighbors out of more money by raking them up. You ever made a pile of leaves and jumped into it? The crunching sounds, the musty smell, the slight fear of insects and mold spores living on those leaves - all mean fall is here.

Fall is the first night you need a blanket on the bed. The hub would be hot if the house was set at freezing, and detests the Wal-Mart blanket I insist on putting on the bed every fall. But I love it because it means I need a blanket, and that outside it's getting cold.

In Virginia, fall meant hurricanes. And while most people hate them, and have reason to, I never have. I've spent an afternoon on Chick's Beach watching the hurricane come in, seeing the water churn and whitecap, driven back home in rains so fast and furious that my car engine stalled out. I can distinctly remember the smell of a hurricane coming in, but I have no idea how to describe it. The sky turns a color you'll never be able to pinpoint, and it feels like the storm could swallow you whole. Yes, I love a good storm.

Admittedly, fall is sweaters and long sleeves and cozy sweatshirts and jackets. All those great clothing items that hide a little more of your flaws, while still making you feel better than a tan does. Fall is spectacular.

Or, at least it was until I moved to Texas. Because in Texas, fall is about two weeks. It goes from 100 degree days to 60 degree days in the span of a couple of thunderstorms. The trees here don't lose their leaves, or if they do I haven't seen them turn red and orange first. If it's ever really fall here, I can't tell you when it starts - only when it's over.

So, my new fall love - tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches with Britton. Who loves fall as much as I do.