Humor me, please. I am loving this thing called fall: chilly mornings and Indian Summer afternoons in Louisville, the northern-most Southern city.
Houston lacks a true spring and fall. Sure, winter days are crisp and the sky is ever blue, with thunder clouds dancing on the horizon over the ship channel.
But this brilliance of color and light that is fall in the north — nothing compares.
I know come March I will be pushing moldy leaves aside in search of snow drops, but for now my heart has come home.