Fall does not come to Florida. Not in the way I love and remember. No season comes to Florida except extreme heat and then a little cooling off. here is no snow. There is no color change. Nothing dies and then comes back to life. It just dies and rots and smells bad.
Really, I think fall is one of the parts of Michigan I miss the most.
The crisp morning air, the cool, yet warm breezes that brings the scent of fallen leaves and the smell of hay and other grasses. And in the right place, the smell of apples, cider, pies and caramel. Looking out your windows to see all the colors of fall - red, gold, purple, brown, orange, yellow. Going out in the cool air of the morning, but by noon, it was warm enough for short sleeves.
Every fall, usually in October, I made it a point to go travel to see the colors. Be it up in the
thumb area, along I-75 or around Higgins Lake, it was definitely something I did every fall. The leaves and trees never failed to deliver.
Another missed aspect are the cider mills. I remember arriving in Florida and asking if there were any here. Floridians had no idea what I was talking about. WHAT? A life of no cider and donuts ever? Ugghh. I can't imagine that. And let's talk about watching a football game in 90 degree weather. No thanks.
So on days like today, when the breezes come to Florida, I remember the fall up in Michigan and long to be up there if just for the season.
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