Getting ready for work this morning, I was gazing out our bedroom window.  (Yes, I literally caught myself gazing.)  Our bedroom is on the second story and there are three trees planted right outside so that the leaves are at window level.  And while I was fiddling with my jewelry and gazing into the leafy canopy, I noticed that some of the leaves were turning bright red around the edges.

As hot and dry and miserable as it has been for us and much of the country this summer, you would think that I would embrace the first signs of the welcoming cool and crisp mornings that make autumn my favorite season.

But I felt a bit of remorse and a little bit cheated.  Our summer had been so busy with sports camps and weekend tournaments and storm damage clean up and weeding in a vegetable garden that was not cooperating, that I felt we hadn’t had a real summer break.  We hadn’t just hung out on the back deck, swatting at mosquitos until we couldn’t take it anymore.  We hadn’t grilled out and roasted marshmallows.  We hadn’t caught fireflies.  We hadn’t eaten ice cream from the Good Humor truck.  We hadn’t ridden our bikes all through the neighborhood until it was almost too dark to see.  We hadn’t played flashlight tag.  We hadn’t eaten watermelon with the juice dripping and staining our T-shirts.

And I won’t make that mistake again.

And with autumn on the cusp, here are our plans:  picking apples, going to the Renaissance Festival, making hot cider, buying a new sweater, going to Friday night football, tailgating, corn mazes, using the heat lamp on the deck and wrapping in a blanket so that we can stay up late talking, bon fires, picking pumpkins, roasting pumpkin seeds, making granola, loving orange.