I love the beach, I love the sun, and I love ice cream trucks.
So that would make summer my favorite season, right?
Wrong.
Autumn is my favorite season—and probably for all of the wrong reasons.
I love the way “Autumn” rolls off the tongue (notice my deliberate avoidance of the word “Fall”). I love the way the crisp air sends a slight shiver down my spine, reminding me to pick a scarf from my arsenal the next day. I love the way it’s just cold enough to not wear Rainbows but just warm enough to not have to wear Uggs. I love the way the birds chirp and the way the leaves change color.
But what I love most about Autumn is the ground, a dirt or concrete path strewn with crunchy red and brown leaves, just ripe for stepping on.
Since I could remember, I’ve always loved stepping on leaves. But not just any plain old leaf, mind you. Those crunchy, dry maple leaves that are slightly curled on the edges, freshly fallen from the nearby trees.
I always played a game—and still do to this day—where I try to step on all of the crunchy leaves while avoiding the ones that have already been stepped on or have become limp from rain or morning dew. I would award myself with points for how many I could get in a row (along the lines of a bonus in Bejeweled) and subtract points for every limp one I hit (like when the Goomba gets you in Mario and you lose a life).
But as I grew older, the game didn’t seem to have the challenge and allure it did before, so I changed things up. The goal was to do all of those things…while acting calm and pretending you weren’t playing it. That was always the hardest because I had to make a quick decision whether or not to step on a leaf that was slightly out of the way lest somebody notice what I was doing.
That was the closest thing to a life-or-death decision I had to make as a young’in because if somebody noticed what I was doing, I would lose the game.
I can confidently say that to this day, I’ve never lost the game.
Maybe that’s a testament to my amazing skill and ability…or a sign of obvious denial. Or maybe a display of how risk-averse I am?
So all of this talk about risk and games brings me back to my initial point—my favorite season is Autumn. And why?
Not just because I get to play my game of stepping on leaves or because I get to wear scarves, but because of something bigger.
Because of Autumn, I’ve learned about risk and developed my fight-or-flight instinct early and now have it down to a tee.
Can you say that about your favorite season?
image by blmiers2
