I love Fall. And I have no idea why. The colors are beautiful, yes. The weather is the perfect temperature, definitely. The wardrobe is the cutest of the year, without question. But as much as all of those things are beautiful, there's something intangible about Fall that I just love.
Maybe it's the transitory nature of it all. At least in Spring the blooms stay blooming for the summer. In Fall, the leaves....well, they fall. For good. The landscape changes from a mellow green to a firey red, as if nature itself is in protest to Winter. (Or perhaps Nature is just a complete and total ham that can't leave the stage without making a grand exit.) Does that temporality make me cherish it that much more? Do I maybe feel a kinship with the change, given the fact that I'm going through so many life changes myself?
Is it the fact that Fall, with its frosty mornings and sunny afternoons (well, rarely sunny up here, but sunny everywhere else nonetheless), is so utterly photographable?
Cool nights--spent under warm blankets just pulled out from the linen closet--give way to seemingly cooler mornings, mornings that leave me wishing I'd finished that set of mittens I've been working on. Mornings so cool that the lakes around Juneau steam, they're so unused to it being cold.
Frosted children's swings have to entertain themselves, their riders now locked in classrooms and sweaters.
Whatever it is about Fall, it gets me in a mood. A joyful, cozy, mischievous mood. For full details on this mischievous mood, see my post today on Woman's World Magazine, but suffice it to say that this mood involves warm apple cider, my favorite sweater and/or skirt, some Hellogoodbye playing in the background, and several mischievous grins at passers-by.