Of Doughnuts and Cider...

It's the time of year again when my mouth begins to water for those things that remind me of hearth and home. I have no idea why autumn should invoke this desire for doughnuts and hot apple cider, but invariably every fall my inner child wakes and remembers. Maybe it is the sweet smell of freshly cut pine burning on the cool evening breeze. Perhaps is it the feeling in the air of change in all its whimsical glory.
I love this time of year the best of all the seasons. It is more colorful than spring and somehow more vibrant as Mother Nature give a last "Hurrah" before the first snows of winter appear. I love the deep reds, the bright oranges and pale yellows as she paints the hills where I live.
I remember the day of my marriage in late September thirty-five years ago, and as my husband and I began our new journey together we headed up Fairview Canyon on our way back home. It was a beautiful sight and everywhere you looked there was color, a rainbow cornucopia of the most gorgeous hues imaginable. I remember telling my husband that it looked like a huge bowl of Trix and to this day I wait and watch for this display and it never looses its thrall.
Maybe Autumn holds so much meaning because it is a time of harvest and a time to give thanks for the beauties and the blessings we have received. The garden has been harvested, bottled and placed in storage and there are no more lawns to mow or weeds to pull for a little while.
For me, autumn is magical and dances across the pages of my mind pulling down cherished memories of being warm, snug and loved. These memories manifest themselves in doughnuts and hot cider and beg to be let free while I curl up in my bed with my favorite book and read until all hours of the night.