autumn sweater

Fall arrived in Boulder yesterday.

When I woke up, sun was streaming in my window but I could hear the wind howling outside over the noise of the neighbors' kids playing outside. The leaves don't turn lots of different colors here like they do back in New England, but they are starting to dry up and blow around in parking lots like the plastic bag in American Beauty. Jeremy and I went to the farmer's market on 13th Street in the afternoon and I felt like I was back in Maine or New Hampshire. It dawned on me that the reason I felt that way was that that was the first time I'd really experienced autumn, in the way I conceive it, in Colorado. Up in Winter Park, fall seems to be nothing more than a three-week period during which it could be sunny and 60 or it could snow. There is really very little in-between time up there. Now I'm looking forward to more beautiful fall days here in Boulder on my bike. I think one of the reasons I have such positive associations with this time of year is that it means ski season can't be far off.