Relating to Autumn

It’s fair to say that I don’t really have a favorite season, unless it’s the season I’m in. Okay, if I’m going to be honest, maybe winter is the only season that isn’t quite as favorite as the others. But we don’t have to go there yet.

One of the things I like about autumn is the abundant pops of orange as I’m driving through the countryside. Pumpkin patches! Happy bulging orbs of orange, still on vines, stacked on wagons, propped on fence posts. Images of pumpkin pie swirl in my brain and the thought teases my tongue. Yum!

I’m a fan of sitting cozily inside while the rain slashes down the windows. It reminds me of the time in first grade (fifty-some years ago) that I was allowed to sit on a stool in front of the classroom and read a story to my classmates on an afternoon when the rain almost drowned out my voice. And I had to read very loudly about Lassie saving the kittens from their watery doom in the ditch. Hooray for the hero!  

And what other season actually gets two names? With rainstorms spewing and leaves descending in showy piles, autumn tends to fall all over herself. 

I identify with autumn as she stumbles along, trying to hold on to summer, bumping against winter, with not a single grasp of graceful spring.