An Ode to a Texas Autumn

The other night, I dreamed of fairies, kings, and faraway lands. Perhaps it was the bedtime story, fresh in my mind from my family’s nighttime ritual, or maybe it was my heart’s longing for a fairy godmother of my own. A fairy godmother who would sprinkle apples, pumpkins, leaves of golds and reds, and pots of simmering apple cider throughout my day. A fairy godmother to bring breezes to cool us off and piles of leaves worthy of a good old-fashioned kid jump. A fairy godmother who would help me see the goodness of a Texas fall while I long for a Northern pumpkin-spiced latte (because geography OBVIOUSLY makes the drinks taste different) and a day where the weather permits us all to wear sweatpants.

It appears as though my fall fairy godmother got sidetracked on her way to me, which is understandable since I have two small reasons why I become sidetracked every 30 seconds. Perhaps she wanted to give me some time to mull over how wonderful Texans have it when the weather turns cold everywhere else and how 80°F warrants us jumping for joy because the “cold front” has arrived. Nevertheless, I will have my “Ode to a Texas Autumn” ready when her fairy wings bring her south for the season:

The season is upon us

My calendar tells me so,

Time to go apple picking

With my tiny helpers in tow.

 

I can already smell the aroma

Ascending from the pie,

I’m dreaming of home-baked goods

And pumpkins piled up high.

 

The picturesque fall visions

Are coming into sight,

Of family-friendly hayrides

And cats as black as night.

 

As I start to lay my scarves out

And align those tall brown boots,

I quickly glance outside,

Which, honestly, is quite a hoot.

 

Kids are running barefoot

Up and down the neighborhood street,

Still in shorts and sunglasses

Properly shielded from the heat.

 

“Something doesn’t feel right,” I say

With orange garland in my hand.

“Where is that crisp, autumn air?

What is this foreign land?”

 

Jackets and pants are not necessary

And shoes are optional too,

Suntan lotion is still a must

Even while you are hollering, “BOO!”

 

Our jack-o-lanterns are flame-less

And it’s really no wonder why,

We have enough heat to go around

So that is one less autumn item to buy!

 

I spent many Halloween nights

Bundled up as tight as one could be,

My head and hands were covered,

With two eyeballs barely seen.

 

We trick-or-treat in shorts now

And our best pair of running shoes,

The sweat may trickle down our heads,

But we are not chilled right through.

 

It actually cools down here

Enough to let us breathe once more,

For summers are long and hot here

Where just surviving is a chore.

 

I’ll go and be the first one

To place the mums and gourds out front,

Do stop by, my pretties,

For a taste of apple punch.

 

Burn those pumpkin-spiced candles

And hang ghosts from all your trees,

Don’t let our weather stop you

From getting the autumn fix you need.

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