Beautiful colors, crunchy leaves... all of the typical fall stereotypes really do get me. I remember looking outside my window yesterday and noticing the first leaves falling -- this is something that I have never noticed before. Maybe it's because I'm growing up and out of school, but suddenly I am noticing the changing of the seasons and the cycle of our lives. I love it. It doesn't have to be mushy or sentimental -- I just want to be present for it. I want to notice it; to take it in, and not let it get away. I want to spend time in my hammock, for my backyard trees are simply majestic.
I love love love cinnamon smells. I have cinnamon incense and candles burning in my house, with a cinnamon-scented decorative broomstick. These were all purchased at garage sales! I'll be writing my garage sale manifesto later.
I love to see pumpkins at my local Whole Foods. I buy one and put it out on my doorstep. It used to be a family tradition to carve one, but these days I find myself wanting the vegetable to last longer, as the ultimate beacon of fall. It also tends to symbolize, for me, the readying of the self for the cold, dark months ahead. They don't have to be depressing; to me the colder seasons are intended for reflection, and cozy self-introspection. The cold, crunchy landscape is comforting, and I believe that without a change of season we might never be able to embrace the change that is ever-present in our lives. Live, love, but eventually let go. Isn't this how the story always goes?
(But here's my silly, private pleasure: going to Target at night and trying on all the new sweaters. I love wearing them around the store (test drive). It's my official get-ready-to-dress warm ritual. I am, however, nice enough to hang them back up where I found them...)