Some Bangkokian friends tell me that it is autumn in Bangkok. While it's true that the nights are a little cooler, it's still really hot and humid here (no surprise).
Can you believe this is the third proper autumn I've missed (and technically the fourth continuous autumn I've spent out of the US)? It's no wonder that there are days when I simply ache for the small things the change in season brings: the growing briskness in the morning air, cozy sweaters and jackets, woolly socks, tights under my summer dresses, mugs of steaming cider, the crunch of red and golden leaves under my boots, the talk of holiday events looming, Thanksgiving Day. . .
Can you believe this is the third proper autumn I've missed (and technically the fourth continuous autumn I've spent out of the US)? It's no wonder that there are days when I simply ache for the small things the change in season brings: the growing briskness in the morning air, cozy sweaters and jackets, woolly socks, tights under my summer dresses, mugs of steaming cider, the crunch of red and golden leaves under my boots, the talk of holiday events looming, Thanksgiving Day. . .
(I know those things await when we return to the US and at that time, I will probably wax nostalgic all my experiences here.)
Today, it's the actual cold I miss.
The closest memory of cold I have is the two weeks of cool, drizzly, jacket weather spent in Darjeeling and Sikkim province.
No comments:
Post a Comment