I remember stepping outside on those first cool mornings of the autumn, and breathing in a lungful of the first painfully cool air of the season.
I want to roast some colorful veggies, wear a bright-colored sweater, sip a cup of hot cinnamon tea, and curl up under a blanket with a good book, and fall asleep.
Even in Arizona, where seasons are either extreme or not well-defined, autumn manifests itself in subtle ways with cobalt blue skies, sunlight that carries no heat and creates long shadows, and a breeze faintly scented with wood smoke and a hint of rare humidity.
It is the time of the year when memories are created.
We picked apples from the orchard. Crisp, tart, mottled apples from the orchard.
We sat on a pumpkin, while others took a hay ride or got lost in the corn maze.
We went camping; our tent strategically sat right next to a smoldered camp fire and unwittingly invaded a skunk's territory.
We dressed up as characters no one recognized from Arrested Development.
We went on pre-Thanksgiving shopping, but I told you to hold off till the sale for this green Guess shirt you were coveting. You were very miserable.
We picked out autumn-scented wallflowers from Bath and Body Works. That helped with your misery.
We got that green shirt from Guess on Black Friday. The shirt that made you look like a ranger. A cute nerdy ranger.
Our new indulgences this year:
Trusting your life in my hand when you are spider-manning.
Posing in the cool new restaurant in town after rounds of free good sushis.
And swiftly converting from the buy-only-from-the-sale-flyer girl to everything Trader Joe-y girl. I plunder and loot at TJ's. Here's a sneak peak of my most recently emptied boxes.
But my biggest indulgence is to have you with me when the days are brisk and the nights are cold. You hold my hands, duck into the car, start the engine, and turn on the seat warmer.
My favorite memory of all times.
