I know for a lot of folks, autumn is their absolute favorite time of year. They gush over pumpkin spice everything, wrap themselves in plaid scarves, and post endless photos of their boots crunching leaves.
I get it — kind of. Well, honestly, I really don’t.
When the thermometer starts creeping into the 90s, unless I’m splashing in the lake, I’m not exactly thrilled either. But fall? Fall and I … we’re not friends.
Sure, the trees put on a show. Their fire reds and oranges look like nature just discovered highlighters and went wild. But to me, it’s like dressing up for your own funeral.
Everyone oohs and ahhs at the hillsides ablaze, but all I see is summer being shoved aside, like someone clearing the dance floor before the bands even finished.
And those early sunsets? Four-thirty in the afternoon and the day is already waving goodbye. What’s up with that? At least summer gives you a full day to enjoy before tucking you in.
And don’t even get me started on the snowbirds. By October, half my neighborhood has flown south — people who’ve become part of my everyday life. They’re friends I chat with on my morning walk or wave to while taking out the trash.
Suddenly, it’s quieter around here — too quiet, like the moment in a horror movie right before the jump scare. One minute you’re thinking, “Ah, peaceful,” and the next you’re half-expecting a squirrel in a ski mask to demand your acorns.
I don’t blame my neighbors for chasing the warmth, but me? I’m not built for year-round sunshine.
I like winter. Winter has personality. I get giddy at the first snowflake, even if it melts faster than an ice cube on a skillet.
When we get a proper snowfall, I’m out there rolling snowballs like a kid who’s had too much sugar. And my snowmen? They’re always a surprise.
One year I ended up with a dignified gentleman in a crooked top hat; the next, a lopsided goofball who looked like he’d been out partying all night.
That’s half the fun — you never know what kind of character you’re going to dig out of the white stuff.
And then there’s snow cream. If you’ve never had it, “oh my,” you’re missing out on winter’s finest dessert. Add hot chocolate by the fireplace, warm sweaters you can disappear into, and Christmas parties that run on laughter and sugar cookies, and winter is basically a Hallmark movie — with much better snacks.
Fall, meanwhile, is all about chores. Trees drop their crunchy, crumbling leaves everywhere, and someone has to rake them!
Temperatures hover in that awkward stage: not warm enough for swimming, but not cool enough for your favorite fuzzy socks.
Even the air seems unsure — one day it’s balmy, the next you need a jacket, and by lunchtime you regret the jacket. At least winter doesn’t mess with your wardrobe choices — once it’s cold, it stays cold.
So go ahead and sip your pumpkin spice lattes, Instagram your hayrides, and swoon over the “cozy vibes.”
I’ll be here sharpening my carrot-nose skills, fortifying my marshmallow supply, and counting down the days until the first decent snowfall.
Because as far as I’m concerned, fall is just the waiting room for winter — and at least in winter, the decorations don’t crumble, blow across my lawn, and clog the gutters like a confetti storm brought on my Mother Nature.