I step out the door of my dorm and everything about my world changes. The smell of crinkly old books has become the air and there is a gentle breeze with it that is like a sip of perfectly iced sweet tea. I hesitate thinking, "No. This dream can not be coming true." With a deep breath I tip toe out on the flame colored ground, the leaves crunching beneath me. I release a breath and allow the peace of the wind to fill my lungs. I can not take in enough of this fresh air. I want the air to be plasma so I can roll around in it and let its crisp comfort seep into my pores. Soon I will taste sweet candy corn. Soon I will drink my first pumpkin spice latte of the year. Fall is here and I am more than ready for it.

I am ready to go to an Alabama football game with my Dad and cheer as we bring in this season. I am ready for the warm Tuscaloosa tastes to remind me of country, to remind me of burgers with pineapple on them, and to remind me that on Sundays little Southern church's become dance floors. At this moment I crave Chick-Fil-A. I crave cowboy boots and Kenny Chesney. I crave the American flag. I become involved with Cort Foster of Man in the Moon. Someone get me a copy of To Kill A Mocking Bird.

All this nostalgic Southern pride that makes me want to scream "Roll Tide," causes me to chuckle. What is it about sweaters that bring me back? What is it about apple cider and my mom's incredible pumpkin chocolate cookies that when I realize I will get to consume them soon, my whole body feels at ease?

My dad and I were going to be lucky if we made it to the fourth quarter of the game. We were leaving from Birmingham at the same time as kick off. My dad drove like lightening, we found a parking spot only twenty blocks away, we sprinted to the stadium and up the ramp. Our seats were just under the top level and (of course) they were in the middle of the row. We squeezed through and crumpled in our seats, gasping for breath, getting our first glimps at the field. I released all the air I was holding and took in how beautiful it was.

I missed my dog. I didn't realize how unhappy with being back in The South I was until I realized how happy with this place I could be. After two months in Oregon with its rain and its green, I had forgotten how to miss this place. I forgot what it was like to have my feet caked and dirt and crawfish in my hand. Sitting in the stadium, crimson filled my heart, which beat with joy again. With every chant of "Roll Tide," I was hearing "Welcome Back home."