Watching the leaves change color, the brisk snap of cold in the air, smelling the ripe smoke scent of wood burning as it drifts on the wind from chimneys pointed skyward.
Bundling up under heavy coats and lap blankets to watch your favorite team play football, breath taken away in little white puffs around your head, snuggling down in the covers with your sweetie when the cool breeze blows in the window.
These are the images that come to mind when I think of autumn. What isn’t to love about this time of year? The only downside I can see is that in this part of the country, it leads to the misery and endlessness of winter. Give me an autumn that lasts until spring and I’d be a happy girl. Some of my favorite childhood memories were of the fall.
Michigan in autumn was a wonderful time of year. I say was because I haven’t been there during the fall since the 1970s. What I remember the most was the smell of the outdoors. A lovely wood smoke and burning leaf scent hung in the air at all times. The trees were vibrant with yellows, reds and oranges. One day in particular stood out as one of the most picturesque of my childhood. I really don’t remember what day it was—possibly a Sunday—I only know we went for a drive around the farm communities not far from where we lived on Williams Lake. There was an old cider mill where we stopped and did a tour.
The cider press was behind a large picture window where tourists could look in and watch the process. Apples went into the huge metal basin. I vaguely remember a large burlap filter coming out around the press that came down from a metal pole above. There was a man with arms like you’d see on a lumberjack who turned a cogwheel, the press came down and flattened the apples to mush. Juice ran down a series of gullies that looked like a miniature version of a log flume, ending its journey in a basin.
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- www.MysticKat.com , blogging on MysticKattales
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MK Mancos writes paranormal romances from her home in the highlands of New Jersey, where the colors are just starting to change and the air is getting crisp. You might find she and her husband, Dave, and dog Lily out on the trails hiking.