A Love Letter to the East Coast
Today is the first official day of Fall. It is also officially the first day of my heart aching for the beauty of what the East Coast has to offer at this time of year. Having grown up outside of Boston, September and October are quite possibly the two most beautiful months to be there. The leaves change to their glorious shades of orange and red, golden yellows, and dusty browns. The air smells of Concord grapes at the peak of ripeness and smokey fires starting to burn piles of crispy leaves. Everything becomes colorful as farmstands harvest an abundance of orange pumpkins, butternut squash, purple figs and apples in every variety. Weekend plans comprise of long car rides racing through colorful stretches of highway and and all things apple: apple-picking, sipping hot apple cider, a freshly-dipped caramel apple, the first uses of cinnamon and nutmeg into a bubbling apple crisp. Easterners begin to feel the need to pull on those first layers of cashmere or wool for cooler evenings and at night a fire or two may start to be lit.
Yes, today I am very jealous of my East Coast friends as I will never grow to use to 80 degree temperatures and ever green palm trees. But I have to remember, come January, the tables may turn.