August days are dripping by, and with them the mosquitos destroying any semblance of a still summer night, the sticky humidity that makes showering twice a day almost a necessity, the societal expectation that your legs should be smooth and hairless as a bar of soap, and no, okay, summer is pretty much the worst.
But Fall. Fall is nostalgic, comforting, fresh.
Can you almost smell the wafting aroma of mulled wine in a hot mug, envision the ABC Family Halloween movie marathons buzzing in the background, hear the crackling of a fiery orange leaf underfoot, feel the tug of a wool sweater stretched just over your wrists?
What about now? Are you thinking about the possibilities in dressing as another person, another being entirely, for an evening?
And now? Are you swallowing instinctively at the thought of warmed cocoa?
Now are you ready for fall? Are you ready to succumb to your most basic flavor desires?
Are you ready to carve pumpkins, and roast the seeds afterwards?
Are you ready to make these Pillsbury cookies and eat all of them at once, then fall asleep by the crackling fire?
Did it work? Are you ready? (It’s a rhetorical question.)