Fall is settling into the neighborhood. My allergies are back for the changing of the guard, just in time to not enjoy the perfect open-window weather. I'm pulling out all the cool-weather clothes I've missed wearing all summer and picking up a couple new things for fall, and it's just cool enough to coax me into wearing them. Out the door and around the corner the sunshine begins, and I begin to sweat a little. Pedestrians bop by me in tank tops and flip flops and I know I've jumped the gun.
This is my favorite of all the seasons. Fall fashion is far more interesting to me than summer, for one thing. I love wool and tweed and scarves and layers. In the heat, there's only so much one can do with a white t-shirt, and I've missed the summer dress this year while I've been nursing.
The crunch of leaves underfoot has to be one of the most satisfying sounds in existence, and there's a certain invitation that comes with hot beverages and staying-in-under-the-covers-kind of weather--a beckoning to slow down and become reacquainted with oneself again. I will always benefit from such encouragement. Fall is here, and I hope it heeds it own invitation and lingers with me awhile.