Ok, so I'm a bit late posting for this week's Think Write Thursday. Fall is a wonderful season around here and I gave it lots of thought before Thursday, but come the day of write, I took my granddaughter to Equine Affaire, one of fall's annual excitements. That was a wonderful but exhausting full day. So here I am sharing what I love about the season on Friday instead.
No mention of what's good about fall in New England is complete without the leaves. Oh how glorious the color, the brilliance of those couple weeks of peak perfection. Sugar maples in particular put forth shades of peachy orangey red that glow in sunlight. There is a spot here in my town with a whole long row of sugar maples that catch full sun and say thank you for that with a rich halo like glow, embracing those lucky enough to drive past at a leisurely pace, offering up peaceful comfort, mother nature's annual treat. The color is so beautiful, I don't even mind raking up fallen leaves. Those leaves, after all, are both fodder and blanket for the gardens, a yummy meal for the compost pile.
Fall also means delicious days outside with a hint of crisp that sends bugs off into deep slumber and away from my face, which means excellent hiking time. My hiking so far this year has really been walking around neighborhoods with The Toddler, but that is also much more enjoyable in fall than summer, and dryer than spring. This weekend's weather calls out for a nice hike.
Seasonal temperatures mean my bunnies are much more comfortable, so for that, I am grateful. They kick up the antics a notch this time of year. Those temperatures also make fall clean up enjoyable hard work. I rake not only the leaves that shelter the bunnies from heat during the summer, but also under their hutches to clear out spilled hay, food, and poop. I work at a casual pace, chat with the bunnies as I scratch out all the stuff they've dumped. It's kind of a bonding time with the bunnies.
Apples. Specifically Macintosh apples. Crisp, sweet with a bit of tart, and so very juicy. They are at their best flavor in fall. I grew up in Macintosh country. When I left New England for a couple college years in Wyoming, one very big bit of home sickness came with the discovery that Macintosh apples only grow in New England. Daddy to the rescue! He asked if there was anything I wanted him to send and I said Macintosh apples. He sent them. I feasted.
And finally, there is soup. Those crisp days sink into chilly nights and occasional drizzly days of cold to the bone. There is no better antidote than a big pot of homemade soup.