Come September, this gal from Colorado is ready for autumn. There the weather changes immediately. The mornings are crisp, the shadows fall differently, and the days are mild. Soon the yellow aspen trees will glisten in stark contrast to the evergreens. This blanket of gold and green will cover the mountain sides as far as you can see. And the pumpkin patches will begin to dot the landscape with orange globes. Yes, there are still a lot of warm days ahead, but the evenings will begin to be down right chilly. 

By the end of October, it is really cold at night. I used to get so mad at my mom for making me wear a coat over my Halloween costume! No one could see my mummy wrappings under a wool jacket. All that effort for nothing.

There are many things I love about Texas–in any season. First of all, my wonderful husband was born and raised here. He loves this country. And I say country.

Once Wayne and I heard about some friends that had joined a group of Texans who had wanted to seceded from the union. They were living off somewhere in the country. Since Texas is the only state that can legally secede, I guess the possibility is real. Wayne and I laughed about it later, and I asked him what he would do if Texas ever did sucede from the union.

His answer: “I would go with Texas!”

Oh that was a shock for this Colorado girl! What would I do?

He was kidding. At least I think he was kidding. When he and all Texans begin to speak of their wonderful state, some kind of deep loyalty bubbles from the cockles of their hearts. It makes their eyes glisten and makes them want to fight the Alamo again!  Just mention Davey Crockett, Jim Bowie, or Colonel Travis, and the little boy in my husband springs to life. Just show him a Lone Star, and he suddenly cares about decorating the house–with Lone Stars! Just mention the beauty of the Texas hill country, and suddenly the Hawaiian islands and Switerland fall into the sea. Just mention the history of the Texas Rangers, and we’ll be up until 4 AM watching “Lonesome Dove” again.

Now I am a mountain girl from the free-spirited winds of Colorado, and I know my state is the most beautiful in the nation. But I don’t have this same deep sense of do or die for my state that Texans have.

I love Texas because I love my husband. I also love Texas because the people are down right nice. They are sincerely interested about your Uncle Bubba who just had surgery on his hip, and they remember your birthday and your child’s birthday. In fact, they are the nicest people in the world. They are gracious too, and they express gratitude. Amazing qualities!

And after 30 years, I think I can understand Texans better than ever. And I think they understand me better too. I remember arriving here and applying for a job. The nurse who interviewed me asked if I was from England. She thought my accent sounded British! That blew me away. I had never stepped a toe in the UK. I know I seemed strange to the average Texan.

Well now, my family and friends from home say I sound southern. My sisters just cracked up at my wedding when Wayne promised to love me all the days of my life. He said, “Aaaaayyyhhhh dooooooooo.” Now my sisters think I say, “Aaaaaaayyyyyyhhh dooooooo toooooooooo.”

But back to autumn. In Texas there are only three seasons: getting hot, hot, and scorching. Autumn falls in the hot category–no crisp mornings, no falling golden leaves from the aspens and no pumpkin patches as far as the eye can see. Maybe, like in November, the Bradford pear trees might turn scarlet before whithering to ugly brown and dropping off. And it’s going to stay hot until December, and then it will switch to “getting hot.”

We just spent three lovely weeks in Colorado, and it was still summer there. Now I am sure the cool fall days have begun, and the leaves are changing colors. Somehow there is an echo in the winds of the canyons and cool creeks that is calling me back home.

At the moment I remember leaving Colorado 30 years ago; but for the life of me, I just can’t remember why–at least not today. I don’t care about fighting the Alamo again, but I wouldn’t mind being swallowed up in the cool mountain air and autumn beauty of the Royal Gorge.