I think it has something to do with growing up on the East Coast, in a small forest-y town that was filled with every season. Later while attending a bit of junior high and then all of high school in the Phoenix area I wasn't able to experience seasons at all- in that area of the country there's warm, hot, hotter, and then maybe a tiny bit chilly come winter. Sometimes. But after a lifetime of experiencing everything Mother Nature had to offer, it was always a bit of a letdown to see pumpkins only being sold in grocery store parking lots, or on dried up farms whose temperatures didn't dip below 70.
Later when I went away to college up north in Flagstaff I relished in the cold (freezing cold!) winter days and the very brisk falls. When everyone else was complaining about the hassle the snow brought, or the way September's chill seemed to slide right into freezing temperatures, I was celebrating any morning my breath would cloud into the cold morning air, and cheering at the sight of green leaves' tips browning in the changing seasons.
Now living in Prescott I feel like its such a gift to be surrounded by seasons! And so that's why maybe in August, I start to feel a little more excited than most people do when I think about the fact that September is right around the corner. Maybe it's because I had it for so long, then didn't, that I appreciate it so much. Or maybe it's just because Fall really is that magical.
There's so much about it: the simple memories of school starting again in September, new school supplies and backpacks, the changing leaves crunching underfoot, apple picking and hot, fresh cinnamon donuts, pumpkins and hayrides, hot cider, boots, layers, sweaters...the list could go on and on.
So today, I'm indulging myself during Henry's naptime, looking through old albums and daydreaming about this year's colder weather and colorful leaves. And the best part? We'll have a new little babe to enjoy it right along with us. So here's a premature Happy Fall...September 22nd isn't that far away, is it?