It is grey and rainy, chilly but not really cold. Leaves are falling from the trees, even the sidewalks of this not-very-green city are carpeted in browns, yellows, reds and oranges. When I ride home from work on my bike, I smell the first roasted chestnuts of the season and all I want to do is sit in front of a blazing fire and peel them, quickly moving them from hand to hand to avoid burning myself and getting my fingers all black and sooty.
I like the fall, when it starts getting dark early and you look forward to getting home and putting on your comfy loungewear; when you eat soup every evening and you still want more; when you start planning for the holidays and making lists, only to end up doing everything last minute anyway and promising you will get it right next year.
