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Monday, November 5, 2012

Hurry up and have fun...

You know when you were a kid and you'd be playing at your grandparent's or cousins, and your parents would yell "We're leaving in 5 minutes!" so you'd hurry up and play as hard as you possibly could, trying to fit every last little bit of fun time in before you had to leave?

That's how I feel about this fall. The weather has been abso-freaking-lutely gorgeous! The October snow storm we had came early enough that the leaves hadn't all fallen off the trees, so we still have plenty of crunchy leaves to shuffle your feet through as you walk.  The weather has been quite warm, so long walks through the crunchy leaves and sunshine have been heaven!

I feel a sense of panick as I try to fit all my fun in before snow falls and I have to stay inside. Don't misunderstand me, I love winter. I love snow. I love donning sweaters and sipping hot cups of cocoa or peppermint tea and watching romantic Christmas movies. I love cozy socks on my feet and heating pads around my neck; piles of blankets surrounding me and my hubby as we snuggle together.  But I also love, love, love the fall.

Fall, to me, is the beginning. The crisp evenings with the smell of dried leaves and wood-burning stoves electrifies my spirit. I come alive in the fall. I go on more walks outside, and breathe more deeply the fresh, cool air. I was married in the fall, just before Halloween. This time of year is about re-living memories of childhood with my own child as he shuffles in his Halloween costume through the streets, going from house to house getting candy. Some things never change. The fall never changes. It is the same every year. You know the leaves will die and fall to the ground. You know they will be crunchy beneath your feet. You know the smell of fall will always be the same. You know when you stick your nose into your Halloween basket of candy it will always have the same smell.

Last Saturday my husband and I went on a bike ride through our neighborhood. It was a warm, sunny day. People were out finishing up the last yard work of the season. We had done that the Saturday before and had small, gloating smiles as we passed by the toiling workers in their yards. This day was all ours.

My thighs began to ache as I rode my pink and white cruiser up the hill above our house. "Now don't you wish you'd gotten a bike with gears?" my husband asked like a broken record every time we rode our bikes up this street.  "Nope," I replied. I love my pink cruiser. The seat is cushiony and bounces over every little rivet and bump in the road. The brakes are in the pedals so my hands don't get tired from breaking. And the tires, being a bit wider, tend to make the fallen leaves crunch just a bit more as I ride my bike through the piles of them in the gutters. 

My husband rode on ahead of me up the hill, then turned around and, sticking his legs out like a little child, he coasts down the hill. I know if I did this I'd break something. I'm not known for my agility, or quick reflexes. I turn around and coast, feet on pedals, until I catch up to him. Then, standing there, we turn our faces up toward the sunlight pouring down on us. The man blowing his leaves has gone inside. There are no noises but a few birds chirping in the trees nearby. I breathe deeply the smells of fall, the sunshine, the love from my husband.  This is the time of year I love best. This is the beginning, and I'm going to play just as hard as I can until it's over!

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