Today is October first. It's chilly when I leave the house and rain drops cover the ground and plants from overnight showers. I pull my jacket tighter around me and take in a deep breath of air.
In Portland, welcoming Fall is like coming home from vacation. Back to regular life. When you go away on holiday, there is excitement. Something different. A change in routine. But you are always excited to come home. You are tired. You need your regular sleep and your home cooked meals. Summer = vacation.
For nine months, Portlanders are used to more or less the same weather. Sweaters and long pants. Boots. Scarves and hats. A light rain jacket. We are used to cozy. We drink red wine in low lit bars. We snuggle up with a blanket and read books. We play board games and cook chili. We go to movies, plays, lectures.
There is excitement in the air almost. A return to the world that we know. Summer is over and we put our dresses and sandals in a bag under the bed. We can't tell one another we are excited, because we will think the other has gone mad. Why is he ready for rain? Didn't he appreciate the beautiful sunny days? The mojitos in the park? The barbecues in the back yard? And he did. And you did too. But this is the flight home. We are comfortable in our winter.
Pumpkin carving party anyone?
the author
- km
- don't laugh. i am not funny. maybe sometimes, but usually not when i mean to be. i am constantly surprised by life. it confuses me, inspires me, builds me up, tears me down, and yet here i am. still going. as are you. forever changing. together.
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