Let it Come

Fall has crept back again. Sort of, anyway.  It's cooled off some, but the 70s isn't exactly fall, and with my whole back yard in bloom, maybe it's more a wish than a reality.

Yet soon the temperatures will cool. And this is what I look forward to with hot anticipation:  the short, cool days followed by dark, cold (enough) nights.

I can't wait to curl into the front of the evening that descends at 4:30 with a book and a throw covering my besocked feet. Or taking up the unfinished knitting projects that I have left from spring when it got too hot to have a pile of wool on my lap.

I have several soup recipes already chosen for the chilly evenings to come. And the Thanksgiving menu is in production again.

When I was younger and lived in colder climes, the arrival of the Canadian geese to the pond near my house signaled the beginning of fall.  Every year the first flock would arrive and I would get excited.  They meant that the leaf piles would soon begin to accumulate and the honey days of autumn would be upon us.

There will be no geese here in desert, and not many leaves that turn anything but brown, but the days will have that color and I can't wait for the first night I can see my breath or when I need a jacket coming out of the yoga studio.  I have the cocoa at the ready.  It's going to be great.