I’m not a huge fan of the shift from summer to fall. In England, and now Italy, it means ridiculously early sunsets and chilly weather. It means donning boots and big sweaters (ok, I like the sweater part) and shaking the moment you step out of bed. As the season comes around once again, I’m trying to make fall, dare I say it, down right crazy fun. At least Thanksgiving is nearly 1000% more enjoyable when celebrated abroad.
Already on the 17th of September when I’m writing this post (on 21 September I’m going to Pavia, so I don’t really have tim to be writing up blog posts), I can feel the cool air begin to leak in from the window and see golden light tint the sky. Although I’m sad to see shorts and flip flops weather leave, I am ready for a fresh start. I had such an amazing summer and can’t wait to see what this new season brings me. I have a feeling it’s going to be fantastic.
My idea of fall and what it should be come from childhood memories that are about eight years out dated. When I was a kid, from about five to thirteen, my family and some family friends would pack our respective cars up with sweaters, blankets and ingredients for making s’mores and drive up to a house we rented in Vermont. We only stayed from very late on Friday night to mid-day Sunday. Although it wasn’t much time, the few hours we did spend there defined fall. We would go apple picking, drive to a farm to pet the horses and cows, visit the Vermont Country Store and put a fire on in the evening. Sure, we spent a lot of timing driving from place to place, but what we saw on those drives resides permanently in my brain. Though time goes by my memories of fall will always be in Vermont.
Of course, I haven’t had a New England fall for years now. It’s strange to think that something that is outdated in my life has come to define an entire season for me. It’s even stranger because my idea of the season relates so heavily to a specific country. Europeans do fall differently than the Americans and I’m willing to bet that Italians do fall differently than the British. The colors in Italy seem to be autumny with all the reds, browns and yellows. I’ve only been to Italy in the summer, so this experience will be new in more ways than one.
Despite the fact that I don’t know what this fall truly entails for me, I’m looking forward to discovering it. Pulling out my huge, grey fisherman’s sweater, wearing my frye boots and baking on Sunday afternoon doesn’t sound too bad. I’m looking forward to endless cups of peppermint tea (I really hope my family has a kettle of some sort) and long walks in the fading sun, though I really do hope the sun sets later than it does in England during the fall.
The end of summer so often feels like you’re leaving something behind, but what if it didn’t. What if we didn’t think of the end of summer truly as an end, but as a transition? This summer has taught me so much and been such an amazing gift on so many levels that I feel I need to leave it behind to prevent souring it. I can’t try to learn more than I can without getting myself tired and angry. While I’ll be pushed this fall, it will be an amazing learning experience. So I say bring on the pumpkin, cinnamon apples and gorgeous white clapboard New England churches with brilliant leaves around me. At least, that will be around my desktop.
How are you getting excited for fall?