In spring and summer, we thrill in getting out, exploring, adventuring, seeing the new and being seen. Come fall, we turn inward. All of a sudden, it's a September Sunday and I'm laying in bed fantasizing about spending the day with my kitchen. It's the best possible date: there is music, and good smells, and hot tea and a floor to dance on if the mood strikes.
Now I am picking sage. Now I am chopping an onion. Bit by bit, there's the release of the wild expectations of summer, the humble simple acceptance of fall. It's like a drug. I've been grooving to it all week.
I hope fall is finding you similarly enchanted.