FAIR FALL

After weeks of wondering if we’d hit the soggy winter blues for good, Fall snuck back into Budapest. We were afraid he had missed us.

The sprightly air crackled with fallen leaves in mellow mustard colors; everything had that quality of being new and bright and alive, even though I knew soon all the trees would be barren and the houses and streets and grass dormant with snow and winter.

Fall is optimistic like that.

With glad hearts, we welcomed that familiar friend back to the city, and for the past few weeks, we’ve romped around Budapest in golden autumn bliss.

When we left for Poland, I made a teary parting with Fall for a while, making him promise to wait for me in Hungary; imagine my surprise when I discovered Fall had grabbed my hand and tagged along to Slovakia! He was in all the trees on every hillside and in the river below the castle and in my lungs and all around. Nimble Fall swiftly snuck ahead to Krakow, and where I had expected only shades of slate grey and bitter cold, he grinned at me in shafts of light and radiant sky.

We promenaded through every street and alley, listening to cobblestones whisper of horses’ hooves and tanks and hob-nailed boots and all its varied history. Along the way, we gathered lore and legend to spice the whole affair, and bit our lips at the host of secret stories we drug back as captives to Budapest.