People love fall.
But up until a few years ago, I hated fall. Loathed it. Fall means the end of summer. Fall means school. Fall means weather that is too warm to wear a jacket but too cold to wear anything else.
What's so great about fall anyway?
Surely it can't be the aroma of pumpkin and tea and warmth and spices.
I don't understand.
It's definitely not the comfortably short days, the fallen leaves, the lovely colors of the world when it's fall.
And most definitely not the childish fun of Halloween.
Not at all.
But as I stop and ponder my last year that I spend at home,
I wonder if fall is really that bad after all.
Fall means the warmth and joy of the home.
Fall means family.