Yesterday was unseasonably cool here in Knoxville much to the great, great delight of my husband and I, both of us hailing from Cleveland and Grand Rapids respectively. My husband emerged from the bedroom wearing jeans (the darker ones I bought him) and a long white t-shirt underneath the perfect deep blue polo short (also purchased by me). He looked so good that we had to agree he is deeply midwestern and looks best in fall clothes.
As much as I will miss summer, I'm ready to start covering my legs and arms as well. Soon that time will come when I get to wear both jeans and sandals at the same time, and at night, I could potentially even throw a sweatshirt on. Ah, the best season is approaching. My jeans await.
Unfortunately, it will line up with apple season, the dominant, most defining season of Michigan, I would argue. I will be missing that season here in Knoxville. Certainly there will be naysayers who argue the long, arduous, deeply gray winter is Michigan's most defining season, but that's a really a half-full or half-empty discussion.
Apple harvesting defines Michigan for me because it includes all those great phrases particular to my fine state that asks only: Si quaeris peninsulam amoenam, circumspice.
The phrases "before the snap," "honeycrisp harvest," and "apple hay ride" speak of the coming cold and the amazingly good smells of an agricultural state - the crisp cleanness of the air that you won't find in Knoxville. I miss it so much already. Someboy, anybody, send me a bushel of apples and all that fall weather that comes with them.