It's always been difficult for me to decide which season is my favorite. My birthday is in January, and I love the plush beauty a fresh snowfall brings with it, so winter has always been a celebratory, albeit cold, time of year being from Chicago. After a long chilly, windy winter, it's always exciting to see flowers blooming and the first signs of spring commencing. Warm weather always puts me in a good mood, which is why I, along with every other student, love summer. As a little girl, I vividly remember thinking about how excited I was for the day after I graduated college. Picturing post-grad life like a permanent summer vacation was pretty idealistic of me, and I was, unfortunately, severely mistaken about what the real world has in store. Then, of course, there is fall. Thinking about fall always brings comforting feelings and memories to mind, and I can promise that my love for this season is not solely manifested in wearing comfy sweaters and drinking pumpkin spice lattes.

There are many aspects of fall - the appearance, smell, holidays and change in climate – that put me at ease and instantly remind me of my childhood. These two reactions go hand in hand. In elementary school, there were few activities I enjoyed more than jumping and playing in large piles of multicolored, fallen leaves. Walking to school every day was enjoyable to me because I loved watching the leaves fall and change color right before my eyes. The older we get, the faster time seems to go. I miss being young and excited to dress up as my favorite character(s) on T.V. for Halloween, as well as trick-or-treating and competing with my friends and siblings over who got the best and most candy. I'll always hold a grudge against my sister who came home one year eating a giant cookie-on-a-stick, and I felt like an amateur, ashamed with my Now & Laters, Tootsie Rolls and the Staples "That was Easy" button I received from an older couple's house.

I always took pride in my ability to pick out the most perfect pumpkins, which later were to be carved and decorated in festive ways. Honestly, I don't remember the last time I carved a pumpkin, and that makes me sad. Thinking of my childhood and all the memories I have from various Halloweens makes me feel nostalgic. I wish that the biggest problem in my life today was figuring out how to resolve an argument with my best friend over who was going to dress up as a witch on Halloween, as it was in 3rd grade, because God forbid we both wear the same costume. Note: I benefitted from our resolution and dressed as the witch (sorry, Jane).

Growing up, my family took annual trips to Didier Farms, a farm stand and pumpkin patch equipped with festival games and activities, just down the road. I used to love going to Didier Farms and picking out pumpkins to carve, getting lost in the corn maze, and, of course, eating apple cider flavored donuts accompanied with hot cider. For the first time in years, I went back to Didier Farms earlier this month and was taken aback by how different the venue felt and seemed when assessed by my current, more pragmatic perspective. As a young girl, I couldn't wait to secretly ride the wagons intended for wheeling pumpkins only, and I was always excited to get lost in the corn maze, which I could now easily remove myself from. In fact, I could see over the corn (surprisingly, because my height is usually the sole variable that stays constant no matter how much time passes) and the top of the maze's exit sign as well. Instead of running towards the petting zoo as I used to, I promptly walked the opposite direction when I began to smell the animals. I also felt a little nauseous when I saw that deep fried Twinkies were offered on the menu, a feeling I certainly did not hold when I was ten.

Half a dozen apple cider donuts with hot cider from Didier Farms.

Don't get me wrong, I still had a good time at the farm; luckily, I am still the enthused, easily amused donut-loving child I was. However, it was interesting to see this place I idolized so much as a child through my young adult eyes. Evidently, fall is a season that, for me, always arrives with the same feelings of nostalgia: of being young, carefree, and imaginative beyond belief. I like to think I carry the same joyful spirit I possessed as a child, but the feelings I exhibit now are, plain and simple, a symptom of just growing up and changing times. Perhaps because I have reached my twenties I am feeling more nostalgic this year than in the past; in just a couple of years, I have no idea where I'll be or what I'll be doing. Unfortunately, sometimes fond memories survive best when they are only memories and not relived. I'm thankful for living in a place where I am able to see all the different seasons in action, especially fall, since I know some warm weather states don't get this privilege. Thank you, fall, for reminding me of my great childhood memories and never ceasing to comfort me. What I can say confidently, though, is that no matter how old I get, I will never stop being fascinated by the changing seasons and the unique beauty and individuality each one brings with it.