A love letter to fall
Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.
F. Scott Fitzgerald
There is a particular kind of happiness that comes with autumn.
Today, it found me on an otherwise ordinary drive home. The sky was that impossibly brilliant blue that seems to belong exclusively to October and November, and the trees along the road were putting on their annual show. Gold, amber, rust, and the occasional spectacular red, all mixed in with the ever-present Carolina pines.
I love this time of year. Unapologetically, enthusiastically, every-single-year love it.
The crisp mornings. The afternoon sunshine. Sweaters and open windows. The smell of fallen leaves. The way the light turns everything a little golden, especially in those last few hours before evening.
And the trees. Goodness, the trees.
Every year, I find myself looking forward to the changing leaves, and every year, I’m somehow surprised by just how beautiful they are.
I know it won’t last. A few good windy days and most of this color will be scattered across the ground. But for now, even the drive home feels like something worth looking forward to.
No particular wisdom to share today. Just a little appreciation for a beautiful afternoon and my favorite season, doing what it does best.
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