I was outside this morning watching the dogs have breakfast and drinking my coffee and just enjoying the crispness of the air. It is definitely fall here, at least in the mornings. Of course, since we are in the south, by noon-three pm it will be close to 90 degrees and still feel like summer, but these mornings are marvelous. I was sitting there with my eyes closed remembering football saturdays at Maryville, walking across campus to interpret a class at UGA, and pulling my cloak up around my neck as I sip chai tea at the Carolina Renaissance Festival.
Fall is most definitely my favorite season. I don't care for spring because of all the budding plants...I spend those months sniffling and wheezing. Summer is a nightmare for several reasons: I was blessed with anti-pigment in my skin so I burn like a lobster even under sunblock, I am continually at least 10 stone overweight so I look like the michelin man in summer fashions, and I just don't like the heat. Winter is a close second to Fall because I love sweaters and gloves and coats and hats...but after awhile it's nice to not have to have twenty seven layers on to keep warm. Plus in the part of the country where I live Winter brings ice storms instead of nice fluffy beautiful snow, so there's the constant threat of losing power or sliding off the road into a ditch.
Fall is just perfect. The weather is crisp. The leaves are beautiful (give me the mountains over the beach any day). There's Georgia Bulldog football on Saturdays. The Carolina Renaissance Festival runs through the middle of November, smack in the middle of those beautiful mountains.
Time to go open the windows and turn on the attic fan.