Living in San Francisco, the mild and moderate breeze never became overly temperamental and life was always a steady hue of blue-grey. In California, I wore Birkenstocks year round. I never felt a distinctive change in time. When I arrived in New York, an electric current of humidity hung in the air. It clung to my skin like the aftertaste of summer, softly lingering. As we built furniture and unpacked boxes of our worldly possessions in the heat, I thought to myself: “Is this October in New York? If I’m wearing sandals and a dress to work, winter here won’t be too terrible after all!” It turns out that I spoke too early because a cold frost quickly enveloped the city the following week. Parkas and heavy wool coats came out of storage. Sandals and Birkenstocks were swapped out for leather boots and gloves.
My favorite seasons have always been spring and summer. However, I’ve always had a special place in my heart for the crispness of autumn and the coziness that it invites into our lives. Autumn has always represented a time to begin again. Children go back to school. Families reset from the summer holidays. My equivalent was starting a new job and life in New York.
My friend D. was in town recently, and we drove up to Prospect Hill Orchards to go apple picking. It had been years since I’d been in an apple orchard, and it was relaxing to be outside of the city bustle. When I was a student at Bates, I used to take an annual trip to Wallingford’s in Auburn to bring home a few bags of apples and warm apple cider donuts. Prospect Hill is home to several types of apples, but the Fujis were my favorite. Don’t just pick the low-hanging fruit. Like many good things in life, the ones that are harder to reach are often worthwhile!