In Search of Autumn (And Other Stories of Hope)

Autumn does not exist in California. Now, I must clarify before going forward that no seasons exist here; regardless of what the weather man suggests. It is, however, Autumn that leaves me longing to trade 70 and sunny for crisp, cool air, apple cider and changing colors. For piles of fallen leaves and Fall jackets; dewy morning grass that sticks to your shoes.

People who live here still act like it is "Autumn", they shop for pumpkins and decorate their stoops with Indian Corn. But they don't get it. They still complain when the temperature dips below 70 and the blue skies could be compromised.

In these weeks before Halloween, I miss Wisconsin. I miss the things I can't explain to anyone who hasn't been there. The sights, the scents, and the feeling that Autumn brings; the death of the year that will soon come to an end.

Today, Dave and I went out in search of some Autumn. I came back with a heightened appreciation for my home and my husband, a refreshed spirit, and maybe, just maybe, a more open mind on what "Fall" is, or what it can be.

On a whim I suggested we drive down Hwy 1. outside of San Francisco, toward Pacifica and Half Moon Bay. You'll remember that the BMPOAT was in Pacifica, and ever since I drove out there for the interview, I've been thinking I needed to take Dave for a drive along the coast there. Also, there's some giant redwoods on the path. We didn't see redwoods today, though. We parked just outside of Pacifica at a parking lot that lead to a few different trails going toward the hills on the opposite side of the ocean. The trail we chose went up the hill and paralell to the water.

After our little hike, we stopped at a roadside farm that had a pumpkin patch. Unfortunately, between the two of us, we had a $100 bill and a $1 bill - neither of which were correct for buying a pumpkin. We strolled a bit through the patch and then headed home, where we proceeded to catch up on this week's episode of the Office while burning my pumpkin and harvest candles, which I call my "Autumn Fireplace." Even though I'm feeling a little better about California in October, I'll still yearn.

David and I along the trail

These pumkins were silly. I've never seen them in gray. They were decidedly dreary and beautiful all at once.

At the top of the trail, looking out over the Pacific

Fall color wasn't prevalent, but here's a little taste of what it looks like in California: