Give me a thick layer of dark clouds and a crisp breeze;
Give me a breeze that brings pink to my cheeks.
Give me sweater weather with a scarf;
Give me a scarf and gloves, matching set.
Give me a warm mug of apple cider;
Give me apple cider by the fire.
Give me autumn.
Give me the trees' rustle of fire-flavored leaves;
Give me the leaves that crunch beneath my feet.
Give me the taste, the smell, of pumpkin;
Give me the pumpkins, smiling in rows.
Give me the drizzle that promises snow;
Give me snow that tastes like comfy cold.
Give me autumn.
These are the words in my heart right now. Mom told me they had a fire in the fireplace last night. Friends on facebook are sporting those fall clothes I love so much: sweaters, hats, gloves, scarves, jackets... and in their hands are steaming cups of apple cider and pumpkin lattes. Somewhere in the north leaves are changing to beautiful, vibrant colors. Soon, there will be pumpkin pie, turkey, and snowfall.
Here, the leaves are getting... dead. There is now a cool breeze as relief from the still-suppressing heat. Halloween decorations deck everyone's halls, but a pumpkin left outside in these conditions turns moldy all too quickly.
This is my home now, but I'm not ready to give up my dreams of autumn. I just love it and miss it too much. Florida, that is my one complaint. Could you please have a real autumn? I'll buy you a caramel apple cider and a pumpkin muffin, I promise. :)
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ReplyDeleteAutumn is the one tug at my heart that Florida could never accommodate. When I knew I was going to Russia, the one thing that I was really excited about was the prospect of a real autumn. Moscow in September ushered in a wonderful change; summer heat turned to cooler days, the skies dressed daily in brilliant blue, and brisk breezes danced through the bright sunlight. My heart filled with hope. When I told one of my Russian friends how excited I was for "Indian Summer", she told me that Moscow didn't really get much of that. (By the way, they call it "babye lyeto" meaning "Grandmother's summer".) My poor heart nearly stopped! But God, who is gracious beyond all measure, hears the heart of His children. Moscow had one of the loveliest "babye lyetae" in years. Not a lot of red, but yellows, golds and some orange... along with the requisite temperatures, of course! It was just a little bit of heaven for me.
ReplyDeleteAnd, here's something cool I just learned on a blog (which the language nerd in you is going to LOVE): "One of the theories about the Russian phrase babye leto -- what I too call Indian summer -- is that the spider webs that appear in warm fall weather are reminiscent of the fine threads of gray in the hair of old women." from this blog: http://www.languagehat.com/archives/003920.php. You've got to check it out. This particular blog starts with a wonderful story about the etymology of the word "gossamer".
Hey, let's get together soon. Starting today, Saturday market every saturday!! You've got to come. Next saturday?? Let me know.