Dear Autumn,

I love you!

Your pretty colors, cozy sweaters, crisp air -- it's all wonderful. And you kick off the holiday season, really. You've got this fantastic sense of anticipation mixed with nostalgia for me. And anyone who knows me knows I'm a nostalgia kind o' gal -- for better or for worse.

The past few days, the sun has been out and there's been a breeze. Okay, so more than a breeze... but not gale force winds as we sometimes [er, typically] have in our region. Anyway, I swear there have been times I've been walking to my car on these days and I've been lucky enough to have my senses take me to another place and time.

I know, that sounds weird. But you know what I mean -- like when you hear that song or smell that smell... it brings your senses back so you almost feel like you're back in that memory again.

This weather, the air, the breeze -- brought me back to the lawn of my parents' house. Quiet. Calm. Peaceful. Perfect. To a time when I was a less-than-charming teenage Megan (whatever that means, I guess). I almost felt like I was there and that age again.

And so I stopped, right there in the middle of the sidewalk. I closed my eyes and breathed deep and tried to stay there just a little while.

And it worked. At least for a few seconds, I was there.

I could see the beautiful reds, oranges, yellows -- autumn on the maple trees. I could hear the cottonwood leaves rustling in the breeze.

My oldest brother mentioned this past summer what a comforting sound the cottonwood leaves make. It's the sound we've heard all our lives, growing up there. Prior to that, I'd never thought of it -- I was so used to it. But I've never been away from home for too long at a time and have apparently had no problems taking that perfect, soothing sound for granted. Well, until this year anyway. It's been weeks since I've been home. And in the city, you aren't lucky enough to hear that sound.

Except for when your senses bring you there, just for a moment.

Mr. Autumn, please don't let the maple leaves drop too quickly in their yard. I want to make it home to enjoy it, and all of the perfect, cozy, comforting pieces of fall before it's gone.

Love,
me.