Why I love the Fall

It actually feels like fall in Amsterdam today, as it's stopped raining (at least for now) and through my open door I can see a few of the leaves changing color.  I feel like a lot of people claim fall as their favorite season, and who wouldn't?

The smells of burning leaves

The desserts

The slightly chilly weather, but still warm enough to enjoy being outside

The desserts

Outdoor football games and bonfires

The desserts!?

Alright so now you get a feel for what I'm majorly missing from home... sorry Jumbo, but these chocolate biscuits just a'int gonna cut it for much longer.  (FYI Jumbo is the name of our grocery store)

But today as I was riding my bike on the 10 minute jaunt back from the VU to my home at Uilenstede I recalled some other feelings the breezy fall days stir up inside of me.  Another reason I think I cling somewhat nostalgically to the fall season.  It reminds me of my daddy.

It's not like fall has some special birthday, or specific reason why I'm reminded so much of my dad.  I guess maybe I just think of him as having fall like qualities.

Maybe it's his burly beard? :)

Or maybe it's because when I was a kid he always wanted us to do things outside in the garden, or at my cousin Austin's house, or just have a campfire for no reason.  Maybe because some of my favorite memories of us are camping in the late summer, him coming to cheer me on at cross country meets at 8 AM on a brisk Saturday morning, or going out to Fort Ouiatenon for The Feast of the Hunter's Moon.

I'm not sure where all this nostalgia is coming from, but I've been feeling it in full force lately.  Feeling the urge to run because I miss my cross country days, listening to music I have on burnt CD's from when I first got my driver's license to be taken right back into that nervous driver's seat, and looking at pictures of my (now seemingly all grown up) baby brothers and desperately wishing to turn back the hands of time.

You would think nostalgia would make you feel happy.  For all the happy memories you've made, and for all the amazing memories left to make.  So why does it leave me feeling so sad, with this longing feeling to go back and do it again, that maybe I wouldn't take all those moments for granted now that I know how much they really meant to me.

Isn't it strange how things so far away from home, can make you feel so homesick?  How thoughts you have 6,000 miles away, bring you crashing right back into the world you left behind?