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I walked out this morning for work and realized something. It’s fall. The slightly chilly air, the colored leaves, the hint of winter to come. I love it so much, it’s my favorite time of year. I’m not sure what it is about fall, but something in it evokes many wonderful memories for me.
I remember trick or treating when I was little, mad because my mom made me wear my coat over my costume (dracula would NEVER wear a bulky coat over his cape!). I remember a date to the orchard with Kristen right after we first started dating and the excitement that came along with having someone to spend time with. I remember lots of things.
Two or three years ago this time of year would have given me desires to drag out all of my favorite horror movies and watch them all, soaking in the wonderful atmosphere from each. Now, I find myself with a different desire. A desire to make the most of it before winter gets here and the beautiful leaves are gone. I want to take trips to the orchard several times a week, but I know it’s not necessary.
I’ve recently felt the urge to visit Maine again, a feeling that used to be pretty constant. Though usually it was conjured up by movies based on Stephen King’s books. Now, I want to experience this weather and this beauty all of the time, and I don’t care much about the “spooky” atmosphere that fall used to conjure up for me.