I am late to the horoscopes, but YES this is everything I feel about fall:
"I am not immune to the charms enumerated above—except vests—but none of them soothes the dread that attends this season. It’s downright sinister. Fall is the beginning of the end. It reeks of decline. The delicious, vibrant, pulsing juiciness of summer—we continue to honor the elusive panzanella salad—has been squeezed dry, and we entomb ourselves in cashmere as we shuffle, brittle and shivering, toward the final slumber of winter. Fall is not death—it is dying."
I am late to the horoscopes, but YES this is everything I feel about fall:
"I am not immune to the charms enumerated above—except vests—but none of them soothes the dread that attends this season. It’s downright sinister. Fall is the beginning of the end. It reeks of decline. The delicious, vibrant, pulsing juiciness of summer—we continue to honor the elusive panzanella salad—has been squeezed dry, and we entomb ourselves in cashmere as we shuffle, brittle and shivering, toward the final slumber of winter. Fall is not death—it is dying."