September is here, which means chilly air and comfortable sweaters are not too long away for me and many others north of the equator. Fall, autumn, whatever you call it personally, is my favorite time of year. It is a time of reflection, a time of exploration, and a time of creativity. I have a theory that fall is a perfect time for writers. So many writers have waxed poetic over a chilly autumn day, and November is known as the perfect time to finish a novel by many. You can really let your imagination run wild during fall, which can eventually lead to a good story.
Summer is not my favorite time of year for more obvious and more personal reasons. A lot of family and friends have died in the summer. Two of the teachers who taught me in my freshman year of college and shaped the course of my life died on different summers. My father died in the summer while living in Florida, where every day can feel like summer. This summer my uncle died in his unairconditioned apartment. "I want you to put on your air conditioner" ordered my mother over the phone before she gave me the news. Is it no wonder that I prefer fall? Summer has not been kind to me.
This could possibly be my last fall. I am traveling to Senegal. Fall and winter will be nothing like I know it now. It'll be like summer came back. Despite my dislike for summer, I welcome the constant summer in Africa. I am hoping that it will bring different experiences and expectations to the season. Maybe, for once, I won't be counting the days until fall comes back.