In the Land of Perpetual Summer, football weather means flip-flops and tank tops. Where pumpkin spice lattes are served over ice with paper tiki hut umbrellas and barbecues are fired up year ‘round, autumn comes late. There is no Technicolor foliage transformation to mark the change of seasons. Fall arrives when the wool socks come out.
Thin spiral notebook 
We’re having Fall up here in Oregon and just about have had enough …ready to hit the Snowbird trail.
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I agree. The coming of fall is me and Bo arguing with the girls about wearing more clothes.
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So poetic, Tara. And a great pic to accompany it, too. This Louisiana girl feels your pain. Of course, everybody’s jealous of us when we’re back in those flip flops in March and they still have chains on their tires. 🙂
Thanks for playing Ketchup!
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That is exactly how it works! I long for a real fall.
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I hear ya… summer and summer lite over here…. no socks for us!
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I was actually saying to my mom the other night, “Won’t you miss the colors if you move South?”
I know I would miss them, but Not the wool socks. I hardly wear socks at all, even in the winter. I have grown to love/embrace/buy them in every color TIGHTS instead.
but yours look comfy. 😉
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I do miss the color changes. Where I lived in Tennessee, this time of the year was the peak for fall foliage. We would go hiking in the Mountains and it would be gorgeous. I don’t miss winter, but I really do miss a real autumn.
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