By Babydicklover. I never liked hot days, and the tenacity of this fall’s weather left me practically stranded in a blazing desert. There was a time when the fall season resembled orange and letting go. As a little girl, I remember walking through the spectrum of nostalgic colors. The falling leaves danced with the wind, and I happily joined them in a period of honest innocence. The memories of my grandmother are vague, but her stories hold significance in my