An Open Letter to Fall

To what is perhaps the most equally overrated and underrated season, 

It probably comes as no surprise to you that I love you more than all the others. Winter is beautiful, with the snow sparkling in the bare tree limbs, but its bitter cold wears one down after too many weeks. Summer is hot. And I hate heat. Spring, with all the newness and rebirth, is a worthy contender. But I don't think any season can compete with you. 

I believe you hold more significance than pumpkin spice flavored lattes and candles and gum and baked goods and a good part of the female (and male, too) demographic. You are more than finally being able to wear cozy sweaters and tall boots and red plaid and lumberjack beards. Fall is more than "basic"- as are those who enjoy it. 

Fall is the time I fell in love, really. I remember the Colorado Falls my husband and I spent together- the hikes, the picnics, the long talks (which, admittedly, sometimes turned into arguments) about our future. Never in a million years would we have guessed we would be where we are now, in a different Fall. But the season was beautiful all the same.

We were engaged in the Fall. After a chilly Rockies vs. Red Socks game in Denver along the river walk I watched the man I loved get down on one knee (well, I didn't watch him, since he did it while my back was turned...) and ask me to be his wife. 

 Then there was the Fall I became a mother. Two Falls ago. I ate Thanksgiving dinner in the hospital that day, as I celebrated all the dizzying newness.  

This Fall, as I watch my daughter, who turns two in a matter of weeks, crunch the fallen leaves and turn pumpkins into mountains to be explored- I'm reminded again of the wonder of Fall as I watch it through a child's eyes. 

Fall is a fresh start. A chance to discover the beauty in everything that is actually dying. The golden and amber leaves falling- they will soon crumble under snow's cold. The sun that makes the long, brown grass seem to glow will set sooner and sooner, turning daylight into a thing to be hurriedly used up, rather than slowly embraced. But Fall isn't over yet and life still glimmers in the trees that shade our front yard and in the remnants of our tomato plants. A reminder to live fully- despite the surroundings or the times. 

Fall always brings on the feeling of beautiful melancholy. You know, when you're inspired, saddened, alive and wondering what to do with it all? The deep hues awaken the deep thoughts in me. Fall is a time to reflect. With Thanksgiving approaching, it's one of the most uplifting seasons as people intentionally remember all they have to say thank you for.

Fall is intentionality. Fall is life in the midst of death. Fall is imagination and anticipation. And  a little bit of plaid and pumpkin spice, too.  

And so, Fall, I'm sorry that you are labeled "basic", because to me you are anything but.