The world gave me a hug today

I want to go apple picking right now.
Today is one of those days that when you step outside, you're immediately 5 years old again. It's '96 and you're in stretch pants and velcro shoes and your hair is crazy because you were running away when your mom was trying to pull it back into a ponytail. You're wearing a too-colorful windbreaker and it doesn't ever match anything. You're outside your white house with the black mailbox and the sound of leaf blowers is everywhere. The leaves are so many colors, and they're everywhere, and the smell is all fall and pumpkins and cold ears and tree forts and jumping in leaf piles with a snotty nose. Stepping outside today took me back to being little, and I loved that.
Days like today just make me want to lie down, in a field, in sweatpants and a huge hoodie, even though I'm not quite warm enough, and watch the sky. I don't care if my nose is cold or my cheeks are red or my eyes are watery. I just want the flood of colorful trees to be above my eyes in every direction, and the airplanes lines to draw pictures in between them, and the smell of fall surrounding me. I love today.
So, my agenda for the next few weeks, a sort of october-november bucket list, if you will, is as follows:
Go apple picking! Somehow, somewhere. It's just necessary.
Have a bonfire. My soul needs bonfiring.
Make pumpkin bread or pumkin pie!
CARVE PUMPKINS
buy boots, because it's starting to be the time when flip flops stop being socially acceptable no matter how far I push the envelope.

It's a beautiful day, don't you dare let it get away without you letting it give you a hug. Because if you stop and appreciate it, that's actually what it feels like. The world gave me a hug today.