Seasons.

All of the sudden it is fall, as if late summer packed all of its balmy breezes, blooming flowers and freshly cut grass up into its suit case and snuck out in the middle of the night, not even leaving a note. The first bite of autumn air always seems to cut me to the bone, leaving me to wonder why I must always stay north of the 41st parallel. But acclimation happens fast and soon I am left charmed by leaves crunching beneath my feet and the crisp breeze requiring a nightly burial beneath layers of blankets.