Muddled Reflections...Autumn, our story begins

"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns." - George Eliot

I love autumn. I love the cinnamon smells and the coolness of the air. I love the first day that I get to pull out a sweater. I love the apple picking and the pumpkin picking. I love the sound of leaves crunching underneath. I love the independence in a small patch of vibrant orange or yellow breaking out of the green. I love the scarlet red maple. I love the hot ciders and the family gatherings. I love the remembering. I love how a breeze or a smell can bring back a boy with a shock of red hair. I love how that same boy, now a man, feels it too and pulls me in a little closer. Fall gives us a chance. Fall is ours. Fall lets us remember and forget. Piles of leaves remind us of a forehead kiss on an old porch swing. Of romantic gestures and stolen kisses. Of a boy and girl. Of "I love you" and marriage talk only weeks after that old porch swing kiss. Of holding and hiding away and baby making. Of hands held and stone chapel picnics. The leaves fall and they bring the remembering. It's the remembering that does it, that pushes us on, that allows us to forgive. The remembering that I love this man.