Autumn is my absolute favorite season. It conjures up so many lovely images: crisp golden leaves, tweed blazers and leather boots, pumpkins and hay rides, the smell of sharpened pencils. Even though I'm not currently in school, I cannot help but equate fall with that beginning-of-the-year feeling where I'm starting a clean slate and anything is possible. All this and more gets me in the mood for this wonderful season.
Only trouble is, at the moment southern California is experiencing a long and lazy Indian summer with hot days that just won't quit, and I'm feeling less than inspired. I long for the day when I can luxuriate under a warm, woolly blanket with a good book (perhaps a good ghost story or something gothic by Daphne du Maurier) while dark storm clouds parade across a lead-gray sky and rain lashes against the windows. There's nothing like a little gloomy weather to get one's creative juices flowing! It's your move, Autumn.
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You should be here where the wind is whipping against the window at my elbow and the chill is seeping in beautifully. Yes. Seeping Beauty.
Halloween is three days away and I'm all stocked up on crucifixes, silver bullets and all the talismans against Evil I can find.
But nothing will stop this chill. It's almost as if it's coming from my bones and working its way outward; I feel like a young man aging too rapidly and I'm frozen with the fear of not being able to stop it and I still can't shake the near-certain assumption that, secretly, I wish I'd never been kissed.
But that's the autumnal chill talking. After all, I've never been very good with words.
Autumn is by far my favorite season as well.
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