A Beginning.

Last night we had our first frost of the season, and even though fall technically began on September 22nd this year, it didn't really feel like it until this morning. With good reason, too: The winds are blowing fiercely and bitterly cold outside, whipping the fallen leaves around in tiny yellow and orange tornadoes, and I have finally been forced to pull my long, heavy coat out of the closet. It finally smells and tastes and feels like fall. My favorite time of the year has begun. Now is when I layer clothing, and shop for Christmas presents, and bake an ungodly amount of cookies. Apples and squash and arugula and walnuts - it all begins (and ultimately ends) here.

Fall is my favorite season because of its volatility: The flurry of the last harvest, the unpredictable cold-fronts, the motif of death and decay seen in the brilliantly colored falling leaves, which will ultimately lead to rebirth in the form of compost. It's also my favorite season because of its stability: The desire to stay inside more often, leading to a microcosm of family and friends that play boardgames, and bake, and curl up together to watch a movie and stay warm. Fall is the beginning of forced interaction due to weather. I love it. (Talk to me in January and I might feel differently. For now, though, I am utterly enamored.)

I suppose part of my excitement for the season is also due to my own personal beginnings: Next week I begin my very first cake decorating class. On top of that, I am taking a Backyard Gardening class through the Bad Seed Farmer's Market. I feel like I am on a journey, and there is no better time to begin than fall. Why? Because fall might look like death made tangible, but actually - if you look more closely - it's also the beginning of a whole new cycle. New and old are not opposites in this season - they are a unified and seamless transition.