When summer starts winding down and my dread of a fall that will quickly turn to winter kicks up a notch or so, the one thing that always draws me out of my negative spiral is going apple picking with the girls. It’s so simple, but it works every time.

Apples make me think of fall spices and baking and boots and cozy blankets. I’m ok with all of those things, which makes me realize that I’m ok with fall. The air is crisper, which means I can layer on a scarf and playground trips are less brutal and sweaty.

Yes, we eat apples year-round. But something about the act of going out and picking apples flips a switch in my overworked brain. While I watch the girls run through the rows of trees and take tastes of apples or even complain about the taste of a particular apple, I know everything is ok. I just need to relax.

A couple of weeks ago, we tried out an orchard we’ve never been to. My sister has been wanting to go to Fishkill Farms because they don’t use synthetic pesticides or fertilizers. With a little more digging, I learned that they’re all about sustainability, which got me even more excited to check them out.

Also, the place is freaking beautiful.

I love a good flower crown. My friend Jackie and I got together over the summer (when festival fashion was on fire) and decided that we must make some. And… well, we didn’t. But better late than never, right?

Since it’s somehow November already, I decided to skip the traditional summery colors and go for deeper fall tones. These beauties would be perfect for Thanksgiving—or even for taking holiday pictures.

I really want to love fall. I really, really do. And, I mean, there are pieces of it that I love. The smell in the air, the crispness, sweater weather, the coziness of burning fall spice candles and snuggling under a blanket, the leaves.

My problem with fall is that I know what comes right after it. Bare branches, the loss of greenery, numbing temperatures, snow. Part of me feels like loving fall just encourages winter to get here more quickly.

I realize that’s crazy. But it doesn’t stop me from believing it.

In an effort to be less mean to fall and to love on it a little harder without associating it with seasonal affective disorder—and to soak up all of the mild days we can before we’re locked inside, hermetically sealed until a stupid groundhog tells us what’s up—I decided to take the girls down to one of our favorite places: the Peekskill Riverfront.

In our house, we don’t need no stinkin’ equinox. We know it’s officially fall once we make our annual apple picking pilgrimage—kind of like how blog readers know it’s officially fall by the sudden inundation of apple picking photos in their feed. #sorrynotsorry 😉

Today I’m over at Wee Westchester talking about our favorite place to go apple picking each fall: Wilkens Farm. Since I had about 8,000 photos from that day, I thought I’d share a few here too.

I’m not a Halloween person (#sorrynotsorry, sister). I might be able to throw together a pretty fantastic spooky wreath (if I do say so myself), but that was pretty much the extent of my Halloween decorating this year.

BUT (but!) I’m kind of obsessed with all of the pretty pictures I’m seeing of post-Halloween fall pumpkin decor. Gone are the ghosts and ghouls and goblins and the whole creepy factor. In its place is it’s sleek, delightfully grown-up cousin. It really is as if the pumpkin grew up from its awkward experimental stage and suddenly found its footing as a perfectly polished lady.

I’m particularly crazy about anything with a sort of modern twist. I’m talking whites and golds and polka dots.

Let me just stop talking and show you what has me drooling…