Postcard from fall in Prospect Park
When people started expressing their delight that fall was upon us, I was cynical: to me, the start of fall only signifies the end of summer. However, I quickly realized that the concept of fall is something that is completely lost on someone who grew up on the West Coast: we had triple-digit temperatures into October and wear flip-flops year-round. This time around, I’m starting to realize what makes autumn so magical on the East Coast.
The humidity has all but disappeared, while the sunshine and blue skies remain. The usual bland backdrop of concrete and skyscrapers is brightened by a thousand autumnal hues of crimson and gold. People here actually wear boots and knit sweaters and beanies because they’re necessary, not just because they’re stylish–and because of that, they know how to style them. In short: I’ve fallen in love with fall. I’ve spent the past few weekends soaking up autumn in all its glory: picking apples upstate and wandering around Central Park and showing off Brooklyn’s best park to out-of-town friends, and I cannot stop exclaiming how beautiful it is.
What’s your favorite photo of Prospect Park?
In case you missed it: last year, I visited Boston at the peak of fall foliage.
