Harvest

I awoke this morning; I twisted open the blinds of my bedroom; I gazed at the sinister syrupy sky; and I had one thought. Autumn is here.

The grayness has settled in. The on and off again precipitation is present. The temperatures are cooling.

This is my favorite season. I easily enjoy many things about it. Baking increases and there seems to be an abundance of pumpkin and spice. Pumpkin cookies, pumpkin breads, and pumpkin pies. Candles and wall plug-ins sprinkle the stores in scents of harvest spice, spice cake, and spiced cider.

People are settling into their dwellings. Sweatshirts are pulled out of the winter clothing trunks. Blankets out of the storage closets. The smell of wood burning fires and stoves pepper the night air. The streets seem to clear a little earlier.

Of course it wouldn’t be the season without the plethora of insects which too want to nestle in before the winter. I spied a spider in my office, two in the workplace bathroom (girls, cross your legs with me), and one marching out of my roommate’s bedroom.

I promptly picked up the Raid can and sprayed him to death on the sheer principle his stride pompously declared his residence in a place I’m sure he never paid a dime of rent for.

Some are brown and thin and frail while others are dark and thick and crunchy. There is absolutely zero irony the 8 legged creepy crawling creatures are the symbolic indicator for the first festival to mark the holiday season.

Already the ghoul candy has been discounted and the webs have been replaced for Christmas trees in the department stores. Some mumble under their breaths about the premature existence of holiday music and perhaps they are substantiated.

However, it’s not too early for the deep regal hues of autumn. Gone are the pastels of summer. Present are the concentrated shades of reds, oranges, greens, purples, browns, and black. Happy autumn.