I used to think that spring was my favorite time of year. The warm weather after a winter of muck, the fresh green buds that promise a lush backyard, sweet dots of colorful delicate blooms and the chance to finally open windows to reconnect with the outside.
But I have learned that the promise of spring is often over-hyped and under-delivered. Winter clings on too long to fully enjoy the short season of spring.
Fall, on the other hand, starts to wink at us before the kids even go back to school and tries to hint that this could be a long relationship. The cool days court us, encouraging us to think of sweaters and pumpkins. Before we know it, the vibrant maples dazzle us with colors that rival spring, but in a more warm, cozy way. The last days of gentle, warm sunlight as you crunch through crisp brown leaves on the sidewalk almost convince you that winter couldn’t possibly be around the corner. And for that, I love fall.