The crisp clean cold of winter cannot be replicated by an air conditioning unit. Nor can the toasty warmth and smell of a furnace imitate summer heat.
We have entered that brief window of the year when mornings are gloriously crisp, but afternoons are still warm and sunny. September. September is summer's last wish. September is for cardigans and orchard visits and cider-spicing. September is when the tree's finger tips turn red and Aunt Tracee's turn blue.
I recall, in early August, when dried corn stalks and plastic pumpkins appeared in the craft store's seasonal section, I walked up to a scarecrow and demanded to know what he was doing there. His presence should align with the end of my pregnancy and I was not ready for a baby yet! I told him to leave, but he did not. A month later, I am preparing to greet fall and my son. In fact, I am eager for both. And no longer am I eager for my son's birth merely for my poor body's sake. I am really looking forward to meeting him!
A friend crocheted an adorable pumpkin cap for him this fall- orange with a green stem on top. I'll wear my orange blouse and green cardigan to compliment his hat.