For as extroverted as I am, there are some moments I breathe in deeply the beauty of being alone. Like through my nostrils so slow, it brings me back to being a human. One wisp at a time.
A few Sundays ago on the very first weekend the local pumpkin patch was open, I went by myself. Drove through S-bucks to grab a black hot coffee and then hit the road to the patch, my heart so happy it was bursting. Knowing I'd be there on my own, contrasting the family situation for most.
Knowing time with the air and pumpkins and pretty things and the ability to think reflectively was just what I needed.
I relish those types of moments.
Cliche as it may be, there's something special to me about changing seasons and traditions and overall festiveness.
Fall happens to be my favorite and this time of year with the smells of apples and the pulling of boots on my feet, I become so kitschy and nerdy that I am literally one step away from a leaf embroidered cardigan of sorts.
But for now, I keep myself off that ledge. The ledge of being an actual Saturday Night Live skit and instead, I buy Cinderella pumpkins while I'm at the patch alone pulling around my red wagon and drinking my hot coffee. I'll leave out the part about skipping back to my car.
That would be a bit skit like.
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