Don't threaten me with love, baby.
Let's just go walking in the rain.
- Billie Holiday
Autumn has arrived in full force; great swathes of leaves tinged gold and russet lie matted and forlorn in the gutters and gathered round the trees. Like mud. Autumn is ushered in with rain and smoky skies the color of dull pearls and I am saddened to think that we will never get snow, not in this part of the world. I turned my back and the city was dressed for Christmas, absent for two short days and the city was awash with cherry pickers and men in neon yellow vests and hard hats hooking holiday lights on every lamppost, swags of lights strung between buildings like clothes drying in the wind. But the gray rain-sodden days and my moody soul are not even brightened by the glittery lights, as they will not likely be turned on for at least another month. So we huddle inside and wait for news about the hotel and this weather, the changing season, makes me want to bake.