And so
I want to carve a pumpkin and wear a scarf. I want to drink cider and eat candied apples. As soon as I come back from New Orleans, I think I'd like to make this happen.
Fall was always my favorite time of year in Portland. I remember the first year I moved there the trees turned into fire. I went home for Fall Break, and when I arrived back in Oregon the trees were inflamed and absolutely vivid. I honestly had never seen anything like it, and I remember taking photos and photos of every possible tree and every possible leaf I could. I walked around the Canyon, and I specifically "got lost" on Ross Island while sailing a couple of times just to be surrounded. The weather was crisp, the air smelled like earth and fireplaces, and the colors... the colors. The hills, the mountains, the leaves were all the color of warmth. I bought an orange sweater, a brown shirt, and red scarf. I tried to become what I saw, and I tried to blend into the forest. Even in the cold of college, and the missing of home, I felt warmed by my eyes and beauty such as I had never seen. Mountains capped themselves in white and leaves tipped themselves into orange, all the while I stood placid, I watched, I waited. Then one day I woke up, and it had all fallen.
Fall was always my favorite time of year in Portland. I remember the first year I moved there the trees turned into fire. I went home for Fall Break, and when I arrived back in Oregon the trees were inflamed and absolutely vivid. I honestly had never seen anything like it, and I remember taking photos and photos of every possible tree and every possible leaf I could. I walked around the Canyon, and I specifically "got lost" on Ross Island while sailing a couple of times just to be surrounded. The weather was crisp, the air smelled like earth and fireplaces, and the colors... the colors. The hills, the mountains, the leaves were all the color of warmth. I bought an orange sweater, a brown shirt, and red scarf. I tried to become what I saw, and I tried to blend into the forest. Even in the cold of college, and the missing of home, I felt warmed by my eyes and beauty such as I had never seen. Mountains capped themselves in white and leaves tipped themselves into orange, all the while I stood placid, I watched, I waited. Then one day I woke up, and it had all fallen.