The Hunt for October

No, I'm not referring to baseball playoffs. I mean actual October. Where is it? It's not here. Not in Miami. Not in any form I can recognize, anyway. None of the tell-tale Fall signs have been lowered upon South Florida. None of the cues that the seasons have shifted and we're on the way to cooler, more inviting, sweater filled nights have appeared.

October here is nothing like the October I know - the October of my youth and not so distant past. Here there are no leaves that abandon their usual green for creeping, then flaming frocks of oranges and reds. There is no hint of crispness in the breeze, you know... that Autumn smell you can detect in early October that lets you know the cold temperatures of November and December are right around the corner.

That doesn't exist here. The palms are green, they sway in the warm, humid air just the same as they did all Summer. People wear shorts and tank tops. There aren't any sweatshirts and shorts or sweaters and jeans combinations going on in these parts. I don't see handpainted sandwich boards saying "Pick Your Own Pumpkins, Turn Here". Hot apple cider vendors are nowhere to be found and I don't think there's a hayride going on anywhere in the tri-county area.

I want Autumn in New York. I want Fall in the Midwest. I want a good old fashioned caramel apple in Pennsylvania Dutch Country and a steaming cup of hot apple cider from Eastern Market in DC or Prospect Park in Brooklyn. I miss those things. Don't get me wrong, it's nice to be able to get a sunburn in October and go to the beach all year long, but for this 4-season girl adjusting is harder than hard. I wonder how Duke would react to all the fallen leaves in the park and the rich, musky smells of Fall afternoons up north. They just smell different. They do.

The man did a great thing for me last week - this little gesture made me feel so much more at home. He got back from a trip to the grocery store and said that he needed some help, there were more things in the front seat and could I go get them. I went out to the car and there was the most perfect, round, gloriously orange pumpkin sitting on the seat as if it were a passenger. It put a big smile on my face. He always does. That one small thing made me feel like Fall was here. Now I have to figure out how I want to carve Jack. Jack's the pumpkin o'course. Maybe I can gaze into the candle-lit glow when he's finished and see a little October of my own.