Autumn

Fall. God, I love fall. Almost as much as I love summer. And winter. I'm pretty ecumenical when it comes to the seasons, I guess. There's something in each one for me. But autumn is so sweet.

I grew up in a small town in Michigan. Milford was surrounded by apple orchards. Now, most of the orchards are filled with subdivisions. But 30 years ago, it was a mile to the nearest stand selling the fruit of the season. Mostly we ate McIntosh back then. Crisp and a bit tart. Usually, there'd be a road trip to a full-service orchard, with warm donuts and fresh cider.

There was usually a bushel of apples in garage. I ate an amazing number each day, in my memory. Sitting in the cool afternoons, crunching sweetness while reading yet another book. I'm sure I went to school each day. Sure I had other things I was required to do. But what I most remember about fall as a child was eating apples and reading books. No wonder the memories are dear to me. :-)

Some years, now in my dotage, I manage to hit the local farmer's market for my apple stash. I feel environmental sound doing so, supporting local (relatively speaking) farmers. This year, we've had a lot of early morning soccer games. So my supplier has been Whole Foods. And they've had this fantastic pile of Honey Crisp apples for several weeks now. I can't stop eating them. They are the perfect apple. Crisp, so that the bite into the flesh is supported, but not too hard. Juicy. And just sweet. Not too sweet. But not tart, either. My mouth waters just typing about it.

Fall is good for soccer games, too. I hear people complain constantly about their kids' sports schedule. It's a pain, it takes up valuable time, it's boring. I just don't get that at all. Soccer is one game a week. One hour a game. No snoring aloud, as it's fast-paced. Everybody gets to play (AYSO league). Annie's coach is Roby, the same incredibly patient, knowledgeable, funny coach she's had for 4 or 5 years. I get to watch my teenage girl run, feel competent within her body, and chat with other parents while doing so. What's not to like?

OK. Rainy Saturday mornings. But other than that . . . !

I like fall cleanup. Nesting before winter. Cleaning windows. I need my glass clean before the snow falls, so that the red leaves drift by clearly, and the snow glitters in my windows. Also, dirty windows make me feel guilty each and every day. So clean ones make me feel useful and accomplished.

And I still rake my leaves. I did hire a lawn care company last year to do it. Carl had just had his heart attack, and it seemed a burden, somehow, that I couldn't manage. But I enjoy raking. I don't enjoy loud whiny motors on blowers. I don't enjoy breathing in gas fumes while listening to loud motors blowing. And I don't enjoy carrying heavy objects while breathing in gas fumes while listening to loud motors blowing. So I enjoy raking.

Beyond the ubiquitous Thanksgiving gratitude, fall seems a season for my gratitude. I dunno why. I'm thrilled to be cool and dry. Rainy October days are far better than steamy August evenings. It's good sleeping weather. Get to snuggle under the comforter again, thank goodness. All in all, I'm grateful to have leaves to rake, screens to put away, a house to live in, apples to eat.

Thankfully yours,
Liz