I don’t know any songs about Paris in autumn. It’s been raining for a while now and I think I know why. There are no trees on my street so I cannot report if the leaves have transformed just yet. Woe is the city dweller. Nevertheless, there is something about the crisp autumn that makes me long for the monochromatic Midwestern falls I know so well.
But I did smile seeing an overflowing crate of pumpkins proudly displayed at the farmers market this morning. And they all had triangular eyes and zigzag frowns spray painted on. But now I just need to get my hands on a hayride, a scarecrow, a corn maze, and a long-lost caramel apple.
. . . . .