The man reading the local football report on the news tried to tell me that there is a fall crispness to the air. Is he kidding? We must be in completely different air. It is stuffy and hot still where I am. Or maybe it's just me. I keep waiting for the temps to come down, for the air to dry out a little. It is taking forever. Either I have entered the hot flash phase of my life, or autumn is taking too long to arrive. And I miss living someplace where the trees have actually started turning colors by the middle of October. All the trees around here are that heavy, dark green of late summer, with piles of brown leaves under them. There is a little hint of red on the crape myrtles, and the blossoms have long since turned to seed pods. But everything else is either green or bare. No pretty colors in between.
Last year, the man and I took a vacation we had dreamed about for years. We took the train up to Boston, and then rented a car to drive through New Hampshire and Maine to look at fall colors and visit old friends we hadn't seen in years. Besides ticking something off the bucket list, the trip served as a welcome respite from the heat. We only had a couple days in New Hampshire, but it was long enough to drive all over, take hundreds of photos, and get wonderfully chilled in misty mountain air. I could really use a trip like that now. Someone posted a beautiful photo of snow on the old stone bridge at our university (which I cannot post here). I want to have a quick excursion to such a cool, snowy place again. I go back soon for my football trip, but I can't guarantee chilly temperatures. I would welcome them, I promise. Possibly not with open arms, but I would welcome them with my arms wrapped around me, shivering, with a smile on my face.
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