I love the fall

This is really my favorite time of year. I like springtime too, though Colorado doesn't have the best spring -- not like Michigan. But it does have a glorious fall.

Fall is the most romantic time, the time to fall in love. There's just something about October, all the beautiful color, and yet the spreading darkness. The chilly mornings and cool evenings, yet the brilliant sunshine. Spring is all about new life, but Fall is something else again, dark and alluring. Time to grab what pleasures you can, before winter descends and buries us all.

Of course, I'm old now, and married, so fall isn't really a time to be falling in love. But I can remember, and I do. Rocket Boy and I met in June, but we didn't start dating until fall, and that October was a magical time. I remember the vivid yellow of the birch tree in front of his house. The birch tree died a few years later, but it came back, and now it's practically a real tree again.

Fall color in the mountains is always a bit of a disappointment, just the yellow aspen, and they're gone so quickly. But fall in our neighborhood is spectacular.

I love walking with the kids to and from school, or to the park in the late afternoon. The tree across the street from us (above) is beautiful right now, and here's Clifford's oak tree, not yet fully turned, while our maple in the backyard (below) is just getting started.

I can't help wondering how the fall feels to my students, or if they even notice it -- they're so busy staring down at their stupid little phones. Grump, grump. Not very happy with my students right now, them and their stupid phones.

I'm so glad I grew up during the time before smart phones. Yes, I know, I'm swept up in technology too -- look at me, blogging away -- but I'm capable of disconnecting. Most of the time, even now, my little old cell phone isn't charged (though I keep telling myself I have to get better about that -- what if the school were to call, what if there were an emergency with the kids). I walk down the street, phone uncharged or simply off, and look at all the beauty. I listen for birds. I don't stare down at a tiny screen, tapping away.

We visited a local farm this weekend to get our pumpkins. At Miller Farm you can go out on a wagon and pick your own vegetables, but we didn't do that this time. (Rocket Boy and the kids went here on a field trip a month or so ago, and we only recently finished the last of the bounty they brought back.) There were lots of things for the kids to play with, such as these pedal cars and old tires,

 and a hill of dirt on which to climb.

We spent an hour or two playing in the mid-October heat, and then we chose our PUMPKINS!

I've never had a white pumpkin before. I'm going to carve one for Clifford -- a ghost pumpkin -- and put it on the big rock in his garden on Halloween night.