No, the fall I am referring to would be the season. Autumn. Where you get crisp fresh air, brilliant blue skies and thrumming reds, oranges and yellows on the trees. Growing up in Minnesota fall meant scarecrows, pumpkins, indian corn, apple harvests, and Sunday drives to see the leaves change. It meant long sleeves and sweaters dug out of bottom drawers, corduroy and wool. When the rains came they would hover all day gently splattering the sidewalks while the chains on the tether ball poles clanked in the stiff wind while I stared out classroom windows. Grandma would shine in her culinary glory turning out savory meatloaf, pot roast, and mashed potatoes. The smell of cinnamon and pumpkins and cloves filled her kitchen. My mother to this day makes the best apple pies I ever hope to inhale. I live for the day after Thanksgiving when the two of us start our Christmas shopping (yes, we are those people), but mostly because I get to have pie for breakfast.
This will be my fifth autumn living in southern Florida, where we live in our own little weather bubble that is completely separate from the rest of the country. As a sub-tropical climate we are now moving into our pleasant weather season. The heat usually comes at the end of April and stays with us until mid-October when we start to see drier, cooler air take the place of the stinking hot inferno that plagues us during the summer months.
I first moved to Florida right after Christmas of 2004 to begin my new job in January 2005. I was coming from New Hampshire and arrived to palm trees, warm breezes and sunny skies. My internal calendar was seriously thrown out of whack. For the first few months I would catch myself wondering where the heck Easter had gone, since the weather was just like a fine June day in Minnesota. It would take a moment to hit me that I hadn't lived through Easter yet - it was still just February. The first summer was unbearably hot... walking from apartment to car or from car to store/work/church was like walking through an oven and I did it as little as possible.
Five years down the road and I can tolerate summers much better. Air conditioning in my place of work is set to frigid so I often wear sweaters to work in June July and August. Going out to the car in a sweater doesn't even make me blink now. That first year if it had been socially acceptable to strip naked to go outside, well, I still wouldn't do it, but it would have been close.
However, in exchange for delightfully warm winters I have traded seasons. Leaves don't noticeably turn, flowers bloom year-round, and the best time for shelling on the beaches is the middle of January and February. I miss all of the wonderful things that make autumn special. And that's what makes a hard fall for me.
Instead of this:
I get this all year:
I know, paradise, right? Most people think so. And it is beautiful, I would never deny it. But most people come here for 2 weeks and sigh over its beauty and then go home. Nature is beautiful no matter where on earth you are, and saying this is better than autumn leaves may be an opinion, but it isn't everyone's. It's all about what you don't have, isn't it? I want cooler weather and leaves changing colors, while folks up north are digging in for winter and longing to escape to a tropical paradise for a few weeks in February.
It's like Eddie Izzard said about squirrels: They sit around eating nuts all day when what they really long for is a grapefruit.
You're probably wondering to yourself why I am prattling on about the weather in a blog about knitting. Though it doesn't take a great leap to understand why it might be hard to get in the knitting mood in Florida. When it is still in the 90's in December and you are sweating like a pig while Christmas shopping it is pretty hard to drum up holiday cheer. Why knit sweaters or mittens, scarves or hats when you never get to wear them? Or if you do, it is maybe one or two days a year at the most? That's not so hard to get, is it?
So why not move? Follow my wool-swaddled heart back north? Ah, there lies the crux of the problem. I am now married to a wonderful man who grew up in Miami. We've talked about relocating to this place or that, but it always comes back to how he loves the weather here so much that it would be hard for him to live anywhere else. I can sympathize, and since I don't miss winter too much I am mostly content to stay here for the time being.
But it does seem that my longing for seasonal changes grows sharper every year. And my instincts to nest always kick in around the end of September, no matter what the thermometer says outside.
As far as knitting goes, I find ways to adapt. I knit with cotton. I knit dishcloths and bags that don't require wearing. Cotton socks can be comfortable year round. And when I get an urge to make something like a scarf or a hat, I still have lots of friends in cold climes who hopefully appreciate my handmade gifts.
The second sock is moving along. I am probably 5-6 inches through the ankle/cuff part. Editied Chapter 12 of my book last night. Life keeps moving forward.
1 comment:
It's actually been a really warm-ish fall here. In the 80's a couple of weeks ago. I think this is the first week that we're staying close to the 50's. Although it's still hitting the 60's by afternoon. My scarves have seen very little action. I do have a new infinity scarf that I love and that is a really loose weave so not too hot as it doesn't really lay around the neck but hangs down. Good for now. :)
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