I'm going to paint you a picture, and when I'm through you will have such an overwhelmingly passionate love of autumn that you won't know what to do with yourself-- so I'd recommend driving to a pumpkin patch right now and reading this in the parking lot, in order to begin your fall festivities right away. I'll give you a few minutes...

...Now that you're there, go find a nice tree to sit back against, and enjoy the show-- I mean, story.

Your eyes are closed. You're laying on something soft, but when you shift your weight you can feel something crunching beneath you. You take a deep breath. Tendrils of something sweet and cinnamon-y waft into your nose: it's familiar, comfortable. After hearing the faint yet distinctively spirited hum of someone in the distance, you realize it's none other than your beloved grandmother, and she is baking her delicious, homemade pumpkin pie. You open your eyes, and there it is, right in front of you in all of its golden glory: a rich, deep orange center that is perfectly smooth and untouched by any outside force. Steam rises from the thick, flaky, buttery crust that encases the filling, and you can practically imagine biting into a large forkful, your mouth hitting the cold, fluffy whipped cream first, then almost immediately tasting the dense, flavorful pumpkin filling before finally crunching into the light, decadent crust.

You're salivating now. You must get as far away from the pie as possible or you know it will all be gone before dinner. You break into a light jog, running away from the window that the pie was delicately perched on, with the faint aroma of pumpkin trailing after you. Today, running is effortless. The crisp, cool air makes it easy to breathe, and you love the feeling of the brisk wind blowing through your hair, making you feel free and relieved of any lingering stress you may carry.

You stop, and look up. Trees tower above you, creating beautiful canopies of red, yellow, and orange. Their leaves rustle in the wind, creating a sweet kind of song. You look down. You're standing on a bed of browning leaves, showing the past life of the fronds above you while foreshadowing what's to come. The armies of the earth are preparing themselves for the harsh battles of winter, but for now, you have fall. And honestly, who could ask for anything more?