In Florida, fall is a nuanced transition from peak summer heat to a slightly cool breeze when the sun goes down—it's barely noticeable. It's a different experience from Illinois' fall, which touches all of the senses, from the howling wind outside my window to the frost and steady drop in temperature.
Since leaving Florida, I have grown to miss parts of it I hadn't really thought about before. What I took for granted comes to me in the way unexpected flashes of memory do. I miss the bright blue cloudless sky, the flat greenery, the nearby masses of water. Hell, I even miss driving long stretches over bridges to get from place to place. I do think fondly about how close these things feel. Yet, for now, I appreciate being able to witness the passage of time take physical shape in slow, wondrous seasonal changes.