Wednesday, August 11, 2010


For me, one of the best things about my move from California to the Midwest was the chance to experience seasons. As a California girl, I'd only ever seen two "seasons": cold and hot. Now that I live in a place with seasons, there's such a rhythm to the year. There's the slow, languid, humid summers, the crisp, cuddly autumns, the batten-down-the-hatchet and stay indoors extreme winters, and the sigh of relief, slushy, sunny springs. And there's that inbetween time, like right now. It's hot as hell, but you can tell summer is winding down. My teacher friends and husband are preparing for the next year, weekends are crammed with last minute BBQs and swim parties, and the farmer's market's offerings have come to a full crescendo. It's obvious that we're coming to summer's end, and soon, we'll be breaking out the sweaters, picking apples and crunching in the fallen leaves. Fall is absolutely my favorite season: as a nerdy kid it always meant fresh notebooks, new clothes and the start of a year full of possibilities. Now it means chili bubbling away on the stove and long walks through the nature center to take photos of the brilliant orange and red leaves. (Even though I've lived here over 15 years, I still marvel at the fall colors every year).
When my husband and I were condo/townhome shopping in 2006, each of the three homes I liked evoked different seasonal images for me: there was a city condo with a big communal deck that I could imagine sipping mojitos on and barbecuing in the height of summer; there was an airy townhome that I could imagine a chilly spring breeze rustling crisp white curtains as we cleaned and danced to music on a Saturday morning. And then there was the condo we bought, where the image that came to mind was a fire in the fireplace, reds and golds outside my window, and friends gathered to snuggle under blankets and watch a football game.
This year I can't wait to host an autumn brunch, like we did last year; to buy Sebastian a silly Halloween costume he'll probably hate us for when he's older, and take him around with his other little buddies; to trade splash parks for apple picking; and to wrap my hands around a cup of tea and get lost in a good book.

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