One of the worst things about growing up in Houston was back to school advertising. You're sitting there dreading the end of freedom, looking at young, happy people all bundled up on plaids and wools and its 100 degrees with 80 percent humidity. You're not getting anywhere near a layer for two months, at least. Historically, Houston's September is warmer than Houston's June. September is really the last month of summer in Houston, not the first month of fall.
Well, here in New York, we have been having a very Houston-like fall. It has been hot and humid and a bit disappointing. I just love fall so much, and it's keeping me at bay. We've all grown bored of the heat and no one has time to go to the beach. It's just too late in the year for a sweaty commute.
Today I saw a red coffee cup and my heart jumped at the thought of gingerbread lattes and Thanksgiving. To my chagrin, it wasn't a holiday S'bucks cup, it was just red.
But in the absence of beautiful crisp windy weather, the autumnal light has just snuck up on me. It is nearly the equinox and the change in angle of the sun has become apparent. The light is dimmer and crisper; it looks cold.
Even though the thermostat is still in the 70's, out the window you expect to see students in wool and scarves and sweaters. And boy, am I ready for wool. I'm ready for fall and winter. I'm ready for sweaters and boots and jackets and excuses to be lazy. I'm ready for snowed in weekends with a DVD and an afghan, a bottle of wine, and maybe something a little warmer, like a cat, or a boy.
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