My Lost Soul

When fall turns to winter I'm fine. When winter turns to spring I'm fine. Spring to summer, fine, good even. But summer to fall...there's something about that switch of seasons that I just can't describe. It's like you get so excited for summer and you look forward to it for months and then one day, summers over. The hope of days to come and the summer sunshine that waited turned to memories of days past and a sun that's set just below the horizon leaving the sky orange and red. But that's not it; well that’s not all of it. I love fall, don’t get me wrong, so I'm excited for the new season to come, the promise of holidays and leaves crunching, cool nights and boots over jeans. And it's not that going back to school ruins it for me. I loved going back to school when I was in high school, and I love going back to college more than that, but there's this funny feeling I get when the days begin to cool. The comfort of the morning chill and the need for a jacket, the hot cocoa and cider to sip, football and turkey, pumpkins and mums. There's a comfort in all of that, which makes me almost sad in a way. Maybe I'm longing to be a kid again, jumping in the leaves, carving jack-o-lanterns, dressing up in a costume, celebrating the holidays without knowing the financial and family stress they so often bring. Maybe it's just that with the start of each fall, a new school year has begun and another year has passed. Maybe it's that I long for those summer nights again, maybe it's the impending doom of winter and the first snow...maybe it's all of those things, but I know deep in my soul that there's something extraordinarily unordinary about fall. 

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