Several years ago, after a particularly brutal winter, I moved from Chicago to a Southern state. I was sure I would be happy to leave behind the heavy coats and deep snow drifts.
And, for several months, I was happy. In spring the wildflowers sprouted in the dry landscape in a riot of colors. Not the daffodils and tulips I was used to, but beautiful nonetheless. Summer came with full force and acquainted me with weeks of 100-plus degree temperatures and I began to long for Lake Michigan breezes. But when the fall arrived, ah, that’s when I missed my hometown the most. Continue reading