Not Ready For The Fall

In less than a week it will be October. October! Hmm, wasn't expecting that one so soon- but it should be a good month. I could pass on a couple days in the month, but in general, I happen to like October.

October reminds me of football games and homecomings, of coming home. Country roads over hung with golden reds, royal purples and fading greens flicker through my memories like an eternal Autumnal kalidescope. Man, I love County Q in the Fall-- the harvested corn fields, the flaming foilage, the pitch black sky that settles all the way to the cracked pavement so that stars seem to shoot up from the very horizon, like if you kept driving you could run right into one.

October brings many fond memories of chilly nights warmed only by the golden glow of a bonfire, a cozy sweater and pair of jeans or a cozy new pair of arms pulling me close and warm cheek nuzzling into that sweet spot on my neck that makes me at once titter and shiver. October brought me my first love. And my second. And third. And my third, again; to flush my face with joy, mimicking the effects of that bonfire's blaze before it smolders out or a maple's limbs before they are bereft of all means of coverage. That is, until the snow comes. A deep blanket of snow and ice under which to hide until ready for the rejuvinating Spring.

In October, Nature puts on her final airs-- dresses up to the nines and tens-- before her frozen Winter hibernation. October slaps a fresh coat of paint over the chipping landscape, making all things beautiful on the outside to hide the fact that they are dying on the inside.

The more I think about it, I wonder if Autumn really is a glorious season, so colorfully enflamed or if it is just the shiny wax polish on Snow White's Red Delicious (or, for that matter, the cinnamon stick in her cider).