Brown Sugar and Cinnamon

God, I love fall. This is, and always has been... (shout out to Spock!!), my favorite time of year. Bar none. 

The sunlight starts to fade gracefully from yellow to white, slowly finding itself leached of life giving color, a gentle reminder that everything dies. The leaves on the trees bloom with that last burst of energy and intensity before the end, the grass gets so green it hurts to look at it, and the air takes on that smell of brown sugar and cinnamon. That smell that reminds me of childhood, of maple syrup, scarlet maple leaves, air with a hint of crisp chill and sunshine with a frantic heat, and that bone deep knowledge of death. 

It sounds morbid, huh? Not to me, it's not. Death and rebirth. There's a reason the fall and spring equinoxes have been associated with such sensual celebrations. It's a sensual time of year. 

Comments

  1. Agreed. My smell-that-evokes-sense-memory is that of burning wood fires, and it is a fantastically sensual time of year.

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