Thursday, October 28, 2010
I have a good feeling about fall in Iowa. I have never lived in a place where trees spring up at will, without coaxing and coddling and irrigation. And the trees are not only dense but also deciduous. That means every one of them is destined to go down to their ugly winter slumber in a fabulous blaze of color.
And how can I help but love fall? I can't resist crunching leaves under my feet, feeling a tiny nip in the air, getting excited for Halloween even though I don't have any kids to bum candy from, eating pumpkin cookies, drinking hot chocolate, and knowing that Christmas is getting soooooo close.
But I can't enjoy it. Not fully. Every beauty and pleasure of the fall is tainted with the bitter flavor of winter's imminent arrival. And I have a BIG problemo with winter. To me, aside from the glories of cross-country skiing, and the magical white Christmas, winter is 4 months of endless, shivering misery.
So, welcome fall! You're beautiful. But if you ever catch me weeping as I take in your beauties, they are not tears of joy or wonder.
They are tears of dread.