If you don’t recognize the lyric, you either had no childhood or have no pop culture sense…the husband falls into the latter category, which is why when I joyously spouted something about wanting to “frolic in the autumn mist” on our way to apple picking some years ago, John was pretty puzzled as to why I would ever string those series of words together.
Anyway, for the last three days, on my bike ride home, around 18th and Pine, I’ve smelled Fall. You know, that delightful crispness in the air that invites you to go on hayrides and dive into piles of leaves and…well…frolic in the autumn mist, dammit! And I remember my many many great memories at Carter Mountain Orchard in Charlottesville with some of my favorite people:
anna in med school 
Aw. Carter Mountain. Virginia. Fall. Love and miss it. We just don’t have the crispy crunch air out here in California. Happy weekend, dear.
and the east coast (and everyone on it) misses you! i can think of a couple things your neighborhood has going for it that we lack back east. happy weekend to you!
“In a land called Honalee”
I wonder if Steph and Eric remember, but we sure did sing it to them even more than you.