The rain has been falling for days, but the air has turned colder each day and small hints of blustery wind nudge out the warmth of Summer. Small drops of rain tumble and fall and a few are blustered onto the window panes. It is beautiful and it is almost everything I expected it would be.
Almost.
Fall no longer has the feeling it once had when I shared them with you, and I want them back for what they have always meant to me that is so very different than is felt by any one else. Fall is not the beginning of an end for me. It is that wonderful beginning to that which simply doesn't end at all. We all decide for ourselves which season to start with to track our lives, and Fall has always been mine. How fitting that I should find someone who is so very much like it. That wonderful feeling of your gloved hand in mine as we walk down the street watching the leaves scurry about their business on the sidewalk beneath us. The smell of wood stoves and the shifting elongating shadows that stretch from a sun hung low even at mid afternoon.
I have always loved the warm smell of spice and coffee in the Fall. Of caramel apples and cinnamon doughnuts, but the smell I remember most vividly comes when you turn your face away from the wind and your hair, gently brushing my face as you lean your head on my shoulder, is all I want to feel filling my nose.
I met you in the Fall. I have spent every season with you, but I feel what you are to me more in the Fall than at any other time. Our Winters were usually spent with the friends who have become our family, and is time to reassure those we love around us that they are important in ways we simply can not describe. The long nights spent together under the roof sheathed in hard cold ice and twinkling lights in the trees during the winter allows me to reflect on what a beautiful woman you are and how important you have become to me.
Spring Is when I see you in the prettiest of the clothes you wear. It is the time I pick the flowers I give to you and delight in seeing you smile at holding them.
Our summers are filled with days of us laying in the sun . We in small talk during the day,holding hands together and the subtle promises that the warm nights in each others arms belong to the person we love and not to ourselves or to anyone else.
Each season has it's own wonders to share with you, but it is the Fall that fills me with such an overwhelming feeling of love for you. It is Fall where it is the most pure and complete in its own right. To be able to feel the warmth of your body and experience the happiness of you with me through your eyes more than anything else.
To me, You ARE the Fall. The other seasons pale in mute, envious silence, at what you become.
I can not imagine a Fall not shared with you. And I will wait beside the wet windows for you to come to me again as only you can do. With soft brown eyes, and your gloves of crimson. Of your wonderful hair in dappled combinations of auburn and burgundy filling my head with thoughts of apple cider. And mostly of your hand inside of mine as we walk among busy and scurrying leaves, reveling in what is to come for us rather than what leaves .
