The Thrill of Autumn

I’ve never been one of those people who feels excited at the onset of autumn. I don’t get all thrilled about The New Chill in the Air, the changing colors, the crispness of things, the blueness of the sky deepening to gray as the season progresses. Maybe when I was a little kid I got excited, at the age when I played a game called “How Many Leaves Can I Crush, Making as Much Noise as Possible,” which involved me swerving all over the road on my bike, looking like a child who just got loaded on a hidden stash of cider before leaving the house. And let’s not forget the Jump in the Pile of Leaves We Raked Right Next to the Trampoline game, one that caused our parents to run out of the house in a panic, yelling that we have to jump from GROUND level because they’re LAME and don’t want us to have any FUN. And now I live in San Francisco, a place where the idea of ‘seasons’ is pretty much up for grabs, a place where no one can REALLY agree on when the rainy season is, or the sunny one. You’ll hear all sorts of differing ideas on “the best time to visit.” (I personally think EVERYtime is the best time to visit, but I could be partial.) All I know is that right now it’s bloody, wonderfully hot outside, and somehow, in spite of the fact you’ll rarely see me out of flip flops this week, there’s something in the air that still feels like autumn. Maybe it’s a result of my upbringing, as though I’ve been conditioned to think that Stuffed Black Cats in Neighbor’s Windows = Fall, but I feel strange urges to put gourds on my kitchen table and pull out my scarves, which I would then wear over my bathing suit as I lounge around my apartment looking for air. And I’m torn every evening between wanting a hot buttered rum and a margarita. But, despite all temperature-related confusion, it really FEELS like fall right now, in a very stirring, nesting sort of way. I can’t put my finger on it, but as I search for the perfect pumpkin to carve and admire the fake colored leaves on sale at Pier 1 Imports, I can’t help but imagine the sky getting crisper and clearer and my spirit soars a little bit. And then I go home to blend myself a daiquiri and admire my tan.