Pumpkin Spice Lattes

Pumpkin Spice Lattes

Pumpkin Spice Lattes

Summer has gone.

Sunshine is still here. But instead of filling thick warm air infused with the scent of flowers, it now pierces the cold, still air like a stern but just teacher.

Leaves that were budding new lives in the spring have aged and colored the landscapes with red, orange and yellow. The full branches have thinned out and one by one leaves float to the ground, their short lives over already.

People are rejoicing of Pumpkin Spice Lattes and pumpkin soup, and although I think I should love those things, pumpkins make me gag.

I love the colors of the trees and I love the sound of the word ‘Autumn’.
I love Chocolate milk with little marshmallows.
Movie nights under a fleece blanket.

But the cold air creeps in makes me feel like a word my mom and my sister won’t let me use.

I try to appreciate the colors of fall. A resentful little voice inside tells me that after the last leaves have fallen, it will just be winter in disguise.

Several times a day, I count the weeks until I can start, possibly, hopefully, looking for sunshine and green leaves uncurling from naked branches.

There are many, many weeks still.

I think of my sister, who is in New Zealand now.
I think of the summer stretching out in front of her.

When we arrive at the place where our house church meets, I walk up the steel stairs. Boxes loaded with apples are occupying every landing place.

They infuse the air that is too cold with a delectable smell, luring me on, and I suppose this is what they mean when they go on about Pumpkin Spice Lattes.

Upstairs, there is coffee and tea. Friends are smiling as if it’s still summer, and they let my sons jump on their couches and their backs.

I think, just maybe, that I will survive this winter.
This winter that is, for now, still fall.

And I will say Autumn.Pumpkin Spice Lattes


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