I like winters because I love wearing hoodies, and that I get to make hot chocolate and that other fun stuff. I like summers because I love wearing light af clothes, and because you get some time *off* to figure shit out. I also like it because I live for eating ice-gola and slushes. I like spring because of that specific mood of the sky and the atmosphere, as if it asks for cheerfulness, how the flowers allow themselves to bloom to their fullest.
I could say a thousand more things about each of them, but I don't fell like giving away too much.
But fall? I like fall because of fall. The cliché that says, that leaves fall when they are tired, but new ones do grow. Each leaf representing hope. how it is said 'autumn' too and how this word sings beautifully on my tongue, as if it asks for it to be sung. because its that time when everything bursts with its last beauty, as if nature had been saving up all year for the grand finale. the way the dried up leaves fall and I run over them to hear that crisp sound on my way on the sidewalks. I love that crackling sound. my mother told me she was used to do this at her college when the skies were a little lighter and the world was a little peaceful and the people actually meant what they said. she used to run like a child. carefree. crackling fallen leaves. with her crimson cinnamon eyes lighted up with fire. carefree.
and the way it smiles each year towards the near end as it leaves, as if waiting for me to say I'll wait for you again. I'll wait for you.
