I walked out of my apartment yesterday morning and it felt like fall. There was a freshness to the air that’s missing in summertime, and I breathed it in and thought, YES. I know this isn’t a popular reaction – people on the elevator at work are already bemoaning the fact that the coming of fall means the coming of winter – but I’m ready. After a summer of visits with friends and weekend trips and weddings and running around, I am ready for a slowdown. I know it’s a short one and that the holidays will be here very soon, but I’ll take what I can get.
Especially if what I get is some relaxing rambles through Prospect Park to watch the leaves change colors, apple cider and apple cider donuts, movie nights with friends, movie nights by myself… well, all those things sound great to me. I may not make it home to visit any farmer’s markets, but I’ve promised myself that I’ll carve a pumpkin this year. New York is prettiest in the fall – more colorful, less smelly, full of possibility – and I want all of it.
Dear summer, it’s been great. Thanks for not being so hot that my apartment ever got uncomfortable and thanks for having nice weather for all three of the weddings and all four of the outdoor shows I went to. But I’m ready to take my air conditioner out of the window, to wear boots and even tights, and to start baking again. I’m ready for fall TV to come back – after a summer of hardly watching anything I’m fifteen episodes into a rewatch of The West Wing and my TV-binging tendencies are reasserting themselves. I’m just ready, and while the temperatures are going back up a bit this week, I know my favorite season is almost here. When it arrives, I’ll be waiting.