For what season am I most grateful? Fall. Fall … all of it and in Fall I include late summer and later Indian summer and no snow early winter. I think that covers the stretch.
Fall … Fall Harvest. The mid-morning sun that beckons me out for the final garden day. It’s that day, that day to pull on my favorite garden gloves and pick and dig up the final products of summer. Then I grab those plants by their tenacious roots; tug and twist until the root ball pops out into the air hanging tightly to the soil. I shake the dirt briskly off into the garden and then toss the now limp and wilted plants in the compost pile (or trash).
Fall … Fall Hikes … with air just cool enough for a jacket, not cold enough for boots. Leaves and twigs littering the ground and branches newly bared standing majestic in their bones. Fall sun … rosier, softer and more intimate having shed its blazing summer intensity.
Fall … Fall Smells … soup on the stove, fruit bubbling into jam, spices added to pies and cookies, dusty leaves crackling to broken bits as they’re kicked up the sidewalk a step at a time.
Fall … Fall Sounds … laughs that float a bit more clearly across the street, wind skittering leaves across the lawn, zippers before the door opens, geese exploding in clouds from disturbed fields chased by smiling bird dogs.
I sometimes feel like Julie Andrews in the Sound of Music, when I stop and think of my favorite things and the list goes on and on. Fall is my favorite time because it still holds the sweetness of summer and is the quiet gateway to winter; trees, and bushes, and plants and sometimes the sky bursting into blazing color and smells like the explosion of fireworks on the 4th of July. It is the downshift from summer that is why Fall is the season I love the best.