Growing up fall was always my favorite season. Back to school, high school football games, homecoming dances, hot chocolate, apple cider, warm chocolate chip cookies, pumpkin patches, Halloween, Thanksgiving, corduroy pants, blue jeans, bulky sweaters, pea coats, burnt orange foliage, the Texas Longhorns…what was there not to like?
But these days fall is more of a struggle for me.
Everywhere I look, signs of winter are imminent.
Temperatures are falling.
Leaves are changing.
Daylight is shrinking.
And I each time I enjoy a meal alfresco (yep, that’s a kind of fancy way of saying outside, and I’m fancy), a sunset on my drive home, a sunny Sunday afternoon walk, I can’t help but wonder if it will be my last.
Or at least my last until Spring.
Anyone else bothered by how the signs of fall all remind us of it’s inevitable end? Or is this just early onset of seasonal affective disorder?
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