My hand shades my eyes straining toward autumn. Six days have passed under 100 and safely say no more until 2024. This week begins our overnight lows between 56 to 63, then decrease. So many reasons to celebrate. In my post of October 27, 2022, I share my feelings toward autumn to add why I long to be able to enjoy this crispy season. I put summer away in boxes, string autumn through the house, and porch, and begin to open doors. Monday and Tuesday night we slept with windows open and the AC off. 

Following are observations of the season change from three years ago. I look forward to what falls from the trees this season onto my writing pages.  

Each autumn, the clock turns backward. I am in Illinois to sit among

memories of rituals of fall festivals, wiener roasts, harvesting of corn,

chilly night hayrides, gnarly vines of squash and pumpkin, fuzzy black

and brown willy worms creeping across roads, the tipping of outhouses

or ringing doorbells late at night and hiding in nearby bushes.

A season for pranks and fun.

In Tucson, years later, I stand in my yard in mid-September year after year

to watch the sky, the color of light, and most particularly, the clouds. The   

morning I notice a club of clouds shaping low at the base of the Catalina’s

and along the Rincon Mountains, I see autumn pushing over the shoulder

of summer. Soon, the temperatures, achingly at a snail’s pace, begin to

drop and within weeks the Arizona Ash and Mulberry trees change

clothing and closet the green and bring on the gold, red, and orange. 

Strings of thin cobwebs crisscross in the air, and the slant of shadows shift

to crouch lower. Mornings of mellow light.

Inside, a crock pot, pumpkin, butternut squash, stews, bread, and apple streusel

recipes clutter the kitchen counter in preparation for a few weeks of amber and spice. 

The fire pit is moved from behind the garden shed and stuffed with the right

amount of wood for the first evening fire. Skinny metal sticks made for marshmallows

line in a row and checkered woven throws lay over the chairs. The cats curl, I stretch

my toes toward warm fuzzy socks and smell Harvest Moon. It is our season, our time,

our patch of autumn.

Weekend Kitchen Counter Fixins

Apple Caramel Pecan Cheesecake

How do you embrace this colorful season? Happy Autumn wherever you live.