melancholySo i went from here to one of my favorite sites, the webblog journal of author neil gaiman and found this. (He's from England originally but now lives in Minnesota)
There's a point in October in the Midwest (and in the East of the US too -- I've seen it in rural Pennsylvania) when the skies are perfectly blue, it's sunny enough to make every maple tree glow yellow or orange or red, there's a chill enough in the air to make you wear a sweater, but after a minute's walk you can't remember why you're wearing it, and you're walking in the tinted glow of a Bradbury story. It's the perfect season, as long as you drive a little slower and more carefully and keep an eye out for deer.
And people wonder why i miss the fall.
