it's the small things

In a life as boring as mine, it's the small things that really make up for the day. Things like having sushi for dinner. Or burning pumpkin candles while studying Greek. Or sitting on the front porch with a beer and looking at the moon big and red in the twilight sky. Granted there are things I'd rather be doing as autumn rolls in. One of these I actually did today: broke out the jeans and the cowboy boots. Mind you, these aren't those cheap Wal-Mart cowboy boots (though the jeans are, admittedly, from Target). They're $300 cowboy boots I bought in 2008 and which are still in excellent condition after 3 autumns, springs, and winters. That's how you know they're good. But the boots in and of themselves are not what I desire the most when it comes to that season when the links crinkle and their vines throb and when the trees are dressed in ragged garments before standing naked as the cold winds come in from the north. I envision walking along the leave-strewn paths with a beautiful girl beside me and we sit on a bench overlooking the rolling hills and we hold one another and drink hot apple cider and feel the crispness in the wind and on the bench are the initials of long-lost lovers but we know our love will be long but never lost. It is a good thought but the cynicism that runs through my veins thick as sap takes the thought and twists it and deconstructs it and makes it merely a prophecy of greater heartache. Nevertheless, autumn is still my favorite season, the absence of romance excluded; and I look forward to those cold nights and the football parties (although I hate football) and walking through Olde Springboro during the festival with my friends drinking hot chocolate and eating caramel corn.