Missing

While it's been more than a year that The Frontier has begun to feel like home, I still have occassional periods where I miss Virginia - the DC area in particular - deeply. Fall is one of those times.

I miss the Association of University Women's annual used booksale at the McLean community center. I miss the National Book Fair. I miss the storybook fall weather and landscapes - The Frontier is much too dry to produce much in the way of spectacular fall colors. I miss the Taste of Bethesda festival - one of my first introductions to what became a long list of "my favorite things" when I first attended 12 years ago. I miss the mass (and usually misguided) hysteria-disguised-as-loyalty regarding the Redskins. Here people root for Denver or San Diego or, sometimes, Seattle - trying to adopt a home team loyalty for teams that play hundreds of miles away.

Most of all, I miss loving fall without having to dread the onset of winter. Winters in the Mid-Atlantic are often a breath of gratitude for relief from the onslaught of soggy, sordid, steamy August weather. Conversely, winters in The Frontier are exactly the weather people attempt to avoid (at least those who give little regard for The Frontier's "Greatest Snow on Earth.") The coming of winter looms over every piece of fall, casting long shadows as the days fade from brilliant sunshine to dull, slate gray skies.

The Frontier has slowly become home - at least for now - and I'm okay with that. But once in awhile - during the golden days of September and October - I miss the East Coast falls that I once anticipated with great excitement.