Autumn

My dearest readers, I must confess something most shocking to you: as much as I have been enjoying--really, delighting in--this past spring, I have just had a longing for autumn. The feeling came about this way: I was reading a recipe which involved baking pumpkins, and all of a sudden the sights and scents of autumn flooded my memory. As every lover of fall knows, it's somehow more than the spicy scent of cinnamon, nutmeg, and burning leaves. It's also the first bite of chill wind, the mustiness of fallen leaves, the peculiar blue of autumn skies. It's the thrill of Hallow'een, children swathed in spectral apparel.

Whereas spring gently urges contentment, autumn demands courage and action. Perhaps that explains my sudden longing for fall: a desire for courage.

I have many changes rapidly approaching, regardless of my readiness to meet them. And they will come amidst the torpor of summer, though I may wish for the brisk brilliance of fall.