Autumnal Confession

I’m spilling it:
I really enjoy autumn.
I’m not sad that summer is over (or, most-of-the-way over).
I much rather prefer 50 degrees and cozy sweaters than 90 degrees and tank tops.

I know--weird, right?

When I was little I used to think there was something wrong with me, because I was always the only one to be happy when fall started and the dog days of summer had ended.

But what’s there not to love? Pumpkins, apple picking, cozy sweaters, Halloween, cider, crunchy leaves, scarecrows, my birthday--I love all of it. (Okay, so my birthday probably has a lot of sway in choosing fall as my favorite season, but whatever. I love anyone’s birthday.)

It was fitting that the day after I got home from my summer vacation, the air had changed and cooler weather had rushed in. I didn’t mind at all (if it had rushed in to my beach time and ruined my balmy island breeze, well, that would have been a different story). On the TV, on the radio, on blogs everywhere, the news of fall’s arrival flew around. I reveled in it. While everyone else moaned and groaned about summer being too short and rainy (in the Northeast, that is), inside I secretly soaked up the crisp chilly air and marveled at all the leaves on the ground. Starbucks has Pumpkin Spice Lattes again and before you know it’ll be Christmas. CHRISTMAS.

Then I’ll get REALLY excited.

(Don’t tell, but I also secretly love the fact that while commercials advertise back-to-school deals and kids are forced to buy new lunchboxes and backpacks and get hit with mounds of homework once again, I’m beside myself with joy that I’m not one of them. I’m not moving into a crappy dorm room and I’m not wasting hundreds of dollars on textbooks. I may be living at home again and working nine to five, but at least I don’t already have a paper due tomorrow and two hundred pages to be read by Friday. Just saying.)



(Photo via NixieMichelle)