I know its late and my voice is cracking

I'm sitting outside, freezing, but I don't want to go inside. This is the feeling I like, this is the weather I crave. My arms have goosebumps crawling up them, and the tips of my fingers have already began to lose feeling, but I'm not ready to go inside. The leaves change really does have a certain beauty. I'm watching this tree blow, and as boring as it seems, it's something else. Every leaf moves in pattern, some falling off and some blowing away, but some refusing to let go of there place. The pumpkins are lit up, shining a pretty orange but not anything the leaves consider as competition. I smell a fire from a distance, I wish I was there, with those people, those strangers. I don't know why I love this weather so much. We lose feeling in our hands and feet, we shiver, we shake, we complain (well, not so much me, I'm the one writing a blog about it.) People driving by probably think I'm crazy, but they could probably never understand or see what I see in fall. It's fragility, and it's my personal calm after the storm. After the long summer, this is where I truly make something out of it. Everyone else is left numb but it takes me back to things. It makes me remember and it's this time of year I appreciate remembering most; even the bad things.