"And the sun took a step back, the leaves lulled themselves to sleep, and Autumn was awakened."
It had felt like summer all week, with its warm sunshine, patchwork quilts spread on the porch, and the neighbor boys tossing school bags aside in the yard and replacing them with balls and bikes and whatever else boys play with. Labor Day had passed, September was on the calendar, but fall hadn't made its way to our house yet. But then the rains came on Friday and the sun stayed asleep all day and suddenly everything felt like home. I ordered Autumn Squash soup at Panera, tucked away in a cozy booth with Jamie, where we talked about church promo videos and fall birthdays. And as we left, the sky gave way and it poured a perfect Friday afternoon rain that begged for nothing more than a night tucked inside.
Soccer was cancelled, so I picked the kids up from school and took them to the mall, where we stocked up on all the smells of pumpkin lattes, marshmallow fireside, and autumn leaf piles, before driving home to hang up backpacks for the weekend and change into our snuggliest sweats. We turned on the fireplace, ordered pizza, squeezed fresh orange slices into cold glasses of Blue Moon, and lit all the candles. An air of excitement filled our house as the kids half wrestled, half snuggled on the couch, anxiously awaiting the movie and popcorn that awaited them. The novelty of a new season was upon us and that familiar feeling of wanting to stay in and make things cozy was back and ready to dwell with us.
We watched a treasure of a movie, The Little Prince, all four of us on the same couch amidst blankets and bowls of popcorn and sippy cups and giraffe babies. The movie ended and Cruz curled up beside me. We cried a little, vowed to never forget how to be a child, and proved it by squeezing fair amounts of Hershey's syrup into glasses of milk. We sat on the kitchen counter, in the dimly lit quiet house, and I felt so very thankful for him, and for this season of home.