What fall in New England looks like. Michael Kors Campaign via mod-tv
I love Cambridge at this time of year. All the Harvard parents have gone home and it’s back to locals and students, the T runs more regularly, and New England turns orange and red in a dazzling display of color. We’re famous for our foliage, and for good reason: walking to class yesterday at around four meant that I walked down Franklin street while it was lit up with maple leaves. Dragging my boots through the piles of color on the sidewalk, I had this overwhelming desire to jump into the leaves and roll around until my hair was covered in crumbs of leaf and the pile looked nothing like a pile anymore. Fall is my favorite season in New England – for the purple mist at six o’clock in the morning, for the colorful leaves, for the achingly bright blue skies and for the chill in the air so that your fingers and nose are always freezing. Also, it’s cold enough in the mornings now for my father to light a fire in the kitchen woodstove, so we all come downstairs and crowd around the woodstove drinking our tea in the mornings instead of missing each other on our ways out the door.