It is fall.

Leaves are changing. Soon they will be ready for crunching under foot. The air is changing too. There is a crisp behind the slightly distant sunlit breeze. It smells like harvest. Like fresh apple cider that somehow always tastes barely fermented. But it’s better that way.

I regret the passing of summer, as I do every year.  But it is Autumn now, and she deserves to be celebrated.  I am imagining chilly nights spent curled up with textbooks and thicker fibers, listening to the rain on the pond behind my apartment as I rationalize putting off this week’s reading to knit one more row.  I am imagining a weekend wardrobe of green and yellow and fleece and socks, and tailgating with my closest friends and favorite beers.  I am imagining hot soups and Mom’s pot roast and steaming chai tea.  Pumpkin patches, my nephew’s smile as he shows off his halloween costume, muddy boots and glittering city streets.  And plenty of reasons to munch on candy corn.

Best of all, I celebrate that it is time to pull out all the knitting books and log on to Ravelry to start planning out a fall full of Holiday knitting.  There will be no tacky Santa Clauses or bunches of holly leaves here, although I do have my eye on a very snarky reindeer chart….  I am planning on soft alpacas, warm merinos, cozy cotton/wool blends.  Laces kissed with metallic threads, light enough that you only catch a hint of sparkle.  Chunky cabled mitts so soft you want to live in them and never take them off.

This is what I look forward to you all year long.  All year, while I watch new bulbs sprout and bloom in the Spring, while I sit by the pool with a gin and tonic in the summer, while I crunch leaves under foot in the fall, this is what I dream of.

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