It seems like this time of year Mother Nature decides to pop in a breath mint. Everything seems cooler... crisper. The trees start to blush on the mountains, and the sky seems a little bluer. I love fall. It awakens an irresistible urge to buy a red sweater and read The Witch of Blackbird Pond.Every time I go to work, I drive down highway 89, past Brigham City and Willard's fruit stands that I've been watching with anticipation all summer long, waiting for the first barrels of sweet peaches and corn to appear. Fall is my baking season. My favorite thing to bake is apple pie. This is a tradition that was given to me by my mother. Every time I make an apple pie, the memory of my mother teaching Aubrey to bake one flashes back to me. (I think it would give her satisfaction to know that Aubrey is master apple pie maker, and her recipe is my favorite.) I watched as they artfully peeled the apples in one curl, and then taking the long, green peels, tossed it over their shoulders to see if they made initials. If they did, it was supposed to be the initials of a person who had a crush on you. Every time I roll out a pie crust I think of my mothers tan, practiced hands rolling out an almost perfect circle, something that I'm still jealous of because I haven't mastered it yet.
Fall is also the season that I fell in love. The first time I told Don I loved him, it was accidental. We were at Maple Canyon, hiking through the ocher and scarlet trees. In a quiet moment I thought about shyly whispering, "I love you", in his ear, but the knots in my stomach made me decide against it. However, before and after that cognitive thought I remember a drastic change in his demeanor. Before we had been running down the paths, and after it was a slow, pondering meander. He stayed quiet until we had reached the car and had driven for a few minutes, and then turned to me and said softly,
"that was the first time you said you loved me."
"I didn't say I loved you," I blinked. My mind whirled...Oops.
"You didn't?"
"Did I? ...uh, I didn't think I'd said it...I guess I do," I finalized.
I watched a slow smile spread across his face.
Fall is also the season that I got married in, the perfect season to be married, by-the-way. On Sept. 24 I will more than likely post something about it that might or might not be sentimental. Which is why my play list has a more sentimental note to it; I'm gradually warping it into my fall collection. So listen to it, and buy yourself a sweater.
