Commentary by Jim Serger
At 53 degrees, “Oh, how I missed you so much” is what I whispered to my sweatshirt as I walked out to the bus stop with my daughter.
On the wooden hanger it hung at the ready for months. It was just looking at me all summer, pushed off, way in the corner. Then, whammo, I reached for it, pulled it over my head, and the sheer feeling of it on said ‘fall.’
Several high school and college football games are in the books, and all my fall clothes are moved to the front of the closet, all within reach.
Grilled cheese and tomato soup is on the menu in the near future. What is it about fall that gets us so excited? Sweaters, bonfires, Colts football, crisp local apples, pumpkins. The 70s during the day and the 50s at night—no heat nor air-conditioner running, the windows wide open during the day: fresh air.
Fall screams blankets, sweatpants and turtlenecks yet still wearing shorts a few more weekends. It’s the descent of the leaves, the aerating of the yard and over-seeding of the turf. It’s the feeling of being outside, the feeling of crisp air—not too hot, not too cold, just right. Hayrides, local orchards, corn mazes, maybe even a trip to a local winery. Pretzels, peanuts, chips and salsa all make their way to the couch on Saturday nights and Sundays at 1 p.m. Game night is back on—I’ll crush you in Monopoly.
Maybe fall should be called spring. It seems as though we just get so excited about this season. The store shelves reflect that. Pumpkin spice and cinnamon scents fill the aisles. Little witches, candy corn, kettle corn and apple cider are the topic of conversation. So welcome back red and yellow leaves. Oh, fall, how I have missed you so much.