The first day of autumn here in Sydney is March 1. I look forward to autumn the way people look forward to Christmas. I always expect to wake up to cold mornings and frost, but it never happens. Autumn may “start” on 1 March, but it stays summer well into April. But now we’re at the edge of April… and autumn is starting to peek through.

It started last week, even as I was sweating on my walk home from work. I noticed the evenings were getting darker, earlier. On the weekend, we had one reasonably low-humidity day and one boiling day. I took my sweaters down from the storage suitcase on top of the closet (total sophistication) and arranged them in their shelf, promising them “soon, my pretties. Soon.” Then, all this week, the mornings have felt cooler. I wore a sweater every day to work, in spite of the “still obviously summer” temperatures in the afternoon. But this morning – this morning was actually brisk. And it’s been cool and crisp almost the entire day. Ohhh, autumn. Hello friend.

In celebration of this blessed season, I wore sweat pants all day, and Joel made a skillet chicken pot pie.

I haven’t had chicken pot pie in a dog’s age. And this one was so good, I had to restrain myself from eating a third serving.

At this very moment, I’m wearing a sweater and sitting by an open window with a sweet, cool breeze blowing in. The cat is napping in the sun, Joel is playing video games, the apartment is clean and smells like fresh laundry.  It’s glorious.

These kind of sunny, sweet, low-humidity days make me so happy, and almost paralysed with nostalgia. I think it’s because more things happened for me at the start of autumn than at the start of spring or summer. I smell the cool breeze and it’s the first day of school, or I’m at the barn for the first team practice of the winter horse show season (#soposh), or I’m getting ready for Halloween and the upcoming holidays (I miss autumn being Sept – Nov). It feels like promise and excitement, and most importantly, no fucking mosquitos ANYWHERE.

BRB – going to go high-five all my sweaters.