Flannel

Yesterday was summer. Today it's fall.

It's funny how the seasons change here in the Grand Valley. It's like mother nature flipped the season dial to "Fall."

I like fall. The whole concept of the atumnal season was lost on me until I moved to Pennsylvania from California.

I was in awe of the amazing, vibrant colors fall brought to the landscape. I took pictures and saved leaves.

Then I moved to the high desert of the Colorado. We have four seasons here. But summer really keeps the other seasons subdued, forcing them back into a subservient position.

Fall here isn't the grand display of color and texture that it is back east, it's mostly golden yellow — the color of aspen leaves when they do through decidious menopause and make the change.

It gets hot here. I think the reason is that the sun moves to within a mile from our sorry, baking bodies sometime around July 2.

But as summer recedes and the knob is dialed in, autumn descends upon us.

Saturday, while changin our sheets, I asked Bill if he thought it was too early for the flannel sheets. Like devine intervention, the temperatures dropped and made snuggling into those cozy sheets all the more wonderful.

I dug our oscillating space heater out of the basement storage and Margaret has taken up permanent residence in front of it. Her winter activities are limited to those things that she cans safely do while sitting on the floor in front of that heater. It's like she becomes a dog on a short leash, whimpering and whinning, if we get too far away from her.

But I love fall. I love what little rain we get and the coolness of it. The smells and the colors.

So welcome fall. We've been waiting for you.