Officially Fall

Honey is in Savannah this week, reconnoitering winter getaways for us, bless him. Of course, I think today it's hotter in Naperville than in most places in Georgia. Anyone else recall perspiring so abundantly whilst acorns were hurling themselves full bore?

Since the children grew up and took root elsewhere, I find myself overly attuned to seasons and how sunlight filters through the trees and plays differently in fall than in spring than in summer. And especially how it hardly ever shows up in winter on whatever godforsaken parallel we live on. (What a dumb idea to sell the globe at a garage sale. Now I'll never know.)

According to my friend's niece, there are 100 more days of sunlight in the winter in Minneapolis than in Chicago. This blows my mind for two reasons: I have always equated Minneapolis with neck-high snow and a people so desperate to be out of doors, they ice fish. Who could stand to live there? I am now humbled by the statistics of sunlight, though I'm emphatically ruling out Eden Prairie as a winter getaway, even though my cousin lives there.

We had ourselves a humdinger of an autumn moon last night. Jupiter showed up, too. Bandit and I admired the night sky for a bit then growled at something in the bushes.

Here's hoping we get lucky on that little getaway. Perhaps it could look a little like this:

 

(Not five minutes after clicking Publish Post, a Boy Scout selling Christmas wreaths appeared at my door. Can't breathe. Need sunlight and cocktails -- stat.)