Fall has always been my favorite time of year. Sweaters. Boots. Crisp air. Colored leaves. The sound and smell of walking through fallen leaves. Apple picking. Snappy tart giant macintosh apples. Fields of corn stalks. Cider. Real cider that is fresh cold pressed and not pasteurized so it turns into apple juice. The smell of burning leaves and fireplaces starting to appear. I miss it. I wish I could click my heels together like Dorothy and say there's no place like home and be transported to fall. In New England. The leaves may be starting to fall here, but try are brown, and it was 88 today. Fall? I think not.
Well, the other day I opened the mail and found an envelop full of fall leaves. Beautiful reddish orange maple leaves. They were not dry and crunchy yet, but over the last day they are starting to curl, and they are starting to smell like fall. My own tiny little fall. I won't lie - I have sniffed them about ten times today.
So, thank you to Gram Rooney for thinking of us and sending us a little piece of fall. If you need me I'll be sniffing the leaves that are scattered on the kitchen counter and clicking my heels together. It doesn't hurt to try.
