A chilling wind blew into Winnipeg over the weekend, ripping summer’s humid grasp from the forefront of daily thought. Last night I went for a quick run to the corner store (I am so addicted to ginger ale), and, as the full moon glared down at me, I felt my first shivers of the season. How delicious.
I love fall. It’s my favorite season by a long shot. To me, fall is heavy with a sense of transition; change, like the blaze of fallen leaves, is everywhere. And I like change.
The main problem with fall, especially in Winnipeg, is that it constantly has winter nipping at its heels. As much as I enjoy fall, winter depresses me, and Winnipeg winters are notoriously gloomy. Let’s not even go there yet.
Still, I’m going to enjoy this year’s installment of fall. Winnipeg winters finds us so bundled up with parkas and mukluks only the Michelin man would find us sexually appealing. We spend more time in spring jumping to avoid being soaked by cars plowing through knee-deep puddles, or the dog poop landmines that seems to be ever-present. And summer? It’s hard to look swank when you’ve got pit stains for miles and sweaty butt checks virtually plastered to a sad pair of Adidas shorts.
Fall, though, is a time to look good. I’ve already pulled out all of my old man cardigans and swank fall jackets that I’ve been hording all summer, ready to hit the fall catwalk. It’s going to be fun.
