I often talk about seasonality on this blog, usually in the context of comparisons between what we experience here in Tucson and the more robust changes I lived through on the East Coast. I know myself well enough to understand that deep down there is still a bit of a yearning to see the world around me transition from the solemn grays of winter to the vibrant greens of spring; to watch the leaves slowly shift into their magnificent hues of fall, visibly sloughing off summer with each successive day they shed their canopy. The crispness of the weather in late October hints at the winter to come, but also keeps those pumpkins we worked so hard at selecting in pristine shape to greet the ghosts and goblins who descend upon us each Halloween.
Fall is when fragrant scents of baking fill the air; cookies and cakes and all sorts of goodies begin to appear at the office, evidence — as if we needed any — that we are entering the part of the calendar where diets become difficult to maintain. Fall is also when my favorite flavor of coffee is once more available: pumpkin spice. I don’t exactly recall when I had my first cup of this wonderfully spicy taste of the season; I suspect it was probably featured on the menu at my local Starbucks one October, and feeling daring, I gave it a try. Now I find myself eagerly awaiting the yearly pronouncement that it’s back on the menu. I think it was last year — or maybe the one before — when I discovered I could order a version for my Keurig; now my office fills with the warmth of the scent of the season each time I pop a K-cup into the machine.
Fall is such a season of change; I’m sure that’s why major character moments in my novels have all taken place in that season. It feels appropriate, somehow, given the physical evidence that surrounds us — even here in Tucson. Everything shifts, life changes, and something new inevitably comes out on the other side of the New Year. But for now, I’m going to raise a cup of pumpkin spice to what lies ahead…
