Last Saturday we had some friends from the city visit and the colors and vibe of Baldy Hill had yet to shift from summer — the gardens still throwing out peppers and tomatoes and zucchini, the flower beds full of bright blooms. Although the shifting light was a subtle but sure sign that autumn had in fact arrived. And in just the five days since we said our good-byes, fall’s presence can no longer be denied, with trees heaving chestnuts, leaves bleeding red, and sweaters and socks being pulled out of storage chests.
I love this season, always have. As a child, fall meant apple cider, jumping in my grandfather’s freshly raked piles of maple leaves, local town Halloween parades, football games, and watching geese fly south for the winter. Now, many years later, I celebrate autumn by raking our own piles of leaves, picking pumpkins, cooking up batches of butternut squash soup and vegetarian chili, Oktoberfest beer, new knitting projects, and still being amazed by the geese flying south for the winter. Oh fall, welcome back, I’ve missed you! :-)