It's that time of year again. The leaves turn every color in the rainbow and everywhere you look the trees look like they are on fire with color. The air is crisp and cool. The birds head south. We put on sweaters and drink hot chocolate. Light a fire in the fireplace and the smell of wood smoke fills the air at night. Frost greets us in the morning and winter greets us with that soft, gentle, quiet first snow. Peaceful.
However, I live in the South. Where the leaves are just now starting to change color. There is no frost in the morning. The chilly air is still a mild 70 degrees. There will be no peaceful first snow any time soon. Last time they saw snow was 1989. There is no need for a fireplace here. So the smell of wood smoke is out of the question....unless I burn down my neighbors house. The birds have indeed headed south. They come here for the winter. Because they are wise and no one in their right mind spends the summer here.
In short I am homesick. I miss the north. I miss the seasons. I miss the cold nights where the world is lit by moonlight and snow, and it's almost as bright as day. Every sound is muffled by the blanket of white. When your nose hurts from the cold but you stay out just a little longer to enjoy the beauty. I miss the crunch of leaves under my feet. The warmth of a sweater and new mittens. Seeing your breath. The crackle of a fire and smell of real pine trees. My house is decorated for Christmas, but it's not the same.
