Fall is cunning. Creeping around the oaks and maples, ducking out of site when I dared to notice the rustle of a falling leaf or its cool breath tickling the back of my neck. And now it is here, out of hiding and with a booted foot planted firmly inside the door.
The signs are there. The view outside my window is now tinged with soft shades of yellow and red. Three nights in a row of temperatures dipping into the high 40s and pumpkins stacked high at the local farmer's market all proclaim its arrival. And let us not even talk about football!
I'm not ready for fall yet. There is still too much summer left to live. But since it's here in spite of my best effort to ignore I will dig out the sweatshirts buried beneath shorts and t-shirts, build a fire and enjoy the show.
After all fall is my favorite season.