I looked out the window. . .

and what did I see?

I have always been a little crazy in love with fall. Just ask the four-hundred and fifty students (over the course of three years) that I practically forced--I mean, what fifteen year old honors students wouldn't take advantage of easy extra credit?--up Provo canyon in October to write poetry and meditate about the changing colors and fall leaves. Or ask the roommates who patiently allowed me to tape, yes tape, fall leaves to our college apartment's living room wall. Or ask the too many different shades of orange sweaters that have graced the shelves of my closet (all purchased in October, mind you). Or ask Stephen who puts up with my annual cooking-with-pumpkin& squash experimentation, where I try my hand at custards, breads/muffins, cookies/bars/cakes and soups.

As near and dear as autumn has always been to me, I must confess the passion faded a bit when I moved to the Bay area. It's not that fall doesn't exist in these parts. It's just a little too fickle for my liking. September is traditionally pretty hot around here, and even October can be warm. I can think of several very overdressed visits to the pumpkin patch where the kids and I were sweating through the hayride. In fact, the first few years I lived here I didn't even see fall colors until mid-November. But this year it seems to be cropping up earlier than usual and I love it. I wish I'd had my camera with me on Saturday, because everywhere the kids and I went we saw trees bursting with yellow, red and orange leaves. SO gorgeous.

It's funny because regardless of the season, Eli and Bennett have always loved singing the Primary song "Autumn Time." They ask to sing that song almost every day at scriptures, and Stephen and I just roll our eyes and say, "Again?!" We're not sure where their obsession with this song came from, but as I'm writing this I'm wondering if maybe a love of fall is in their blood.

No more leaves taped to the wall. Now it's pumpkins on the table.