Falling in love with Fall

I have a theory that you can tell the nature of people by their love of seasons. Of course I am completely wrong and I hate Linda Goodman. Nevertheless, here goes.

Summer folks are jolly and fun and don't mind a hard day's work if it makes them dirty and if the end of the day means a chill at the beach. Winter people are stylish and brooding and can put up with the mess of life like it were their mission on earth. Spring people generally notice everything around them and want desperately to communicate it to someone. Fall people are dreamy and believe in the gentle mysteries of life.

I am a fall person. I love the fact that dead things can look beautiful and colourful. The flowers despite their best efforts cannot match the melancholy of the fall colors in all their tastefully fading shades. It is as if the leaves sent one last challenge and silently withered with dignity, without the jumpy sparkly ado of summer blossoms.

Above all I love fall for its uniqueness. In all the other seasons something new comes in, in the place of something old. Winter brings in snow, spring brings in flowers, summer brings new leaves in the branches. Fall is the only season which brings nothing new and yet 'changes' what exists ultimately leading to the last breath of life.

No more chance of redemption.