How There is No Fall

I didn't grow up with Fall/Autumn. I grew up where there was dry season and rainy season. So when I observed the magic that is Fall/Autumn last year and the year before, I was unspeakably enthralled. The leaves literally changed colors and fell off the trees against the flawlessly blue skies! And then, there was squash at the store! And there were pumpkin flavored bagels and coffees! And then, we got to wear cute hats and pretty scarves. Fall was fabulous. My first year, I thought it was sad watching my beloved trees die. The second year, I was further North where the leaves are more beautiful and it didn't bother me quite so badly.

Even though I only saw two falls, I concluded it had potential to rival my favorite season of all time, summer. People from New York are supposed to love fall, therefore this fatal attraction is genetic. I learned that long walks with leaves crunching underneath is magic. 

Even through I only saw two falls, I strangely miss it. As my Cambodian existence shifts through rainy season, and September flies by, I'm well aware of the pumpkin bagels being consumed, and the cute hats being worn, and there is some nostalgia. Life in Cambodia and indeed a majority of my life has been a perpetual summer. I love summer! But this uniqueness that is Fall in Northern North America is priceless and non-replicated anywhere else.

For now, living in eternal summer, I'm marking the passage of time by vacations. Sure there are seasons, but I'd rather mark it by my vacations.