“But you think perhaps you can smell caramel wafting through the evening breeze, beneath the crisp scent of the autumn leaves. A subtle sweetness at the edges of the cold.”
(Erin Morgenstern)
The windy shift from swimsuits to scarves is a happy one around here, and I don’t want to miss a single sensation. The music in my house has lilted away from turquoise and turned toward golden, the blankets from pastels to deep plum. Fall tastes like cloves, smells like wool, feels like being understood, sounds like a campfire, and looks like home. I’d love to offer a few practical bits of housekeeping (literal and otherwise) to ease the transition for us all. Let’s prepare our hearts for a gentle season of echoing the trees in the letting go of dead things.
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