Summer is officially over. That high 70s day last weekend was just messing with us. Even without September 22nd marking the official seasonal shift, there’s the tangible proof in the sweater and scarf ensemble I wore today. I know that many people argue fall, particularly in New York, is the best season. I’m not one of those people. I mean, I like fall. The leaves are pretty. Apple cider is tasty. Halloween is the best holiday ever. But I love summer. Truly and deeply. I love that I have full seasonal permission to exclusively drink rosé, and my friends won’t make jokes about my 48-year-old divorcee tastes. I even like still finding sand in the seams of a bag weeks for weeks after a day trip to the beach.
I’m always reluctant to let it go when the leaves start to change. That love has its limits, though. Here are some of the reasons I’m ready to embrace autumn.