Someone's a rap rap rapping at our door

It comes so quickly,  the changing of temperature.  Summer's humid yet warm and embracing span is so brief it almost feels like a dream.  Fall is a beautiful season in Korea, unlike in San Antonio.  The colors of the trees change from green to bright vibrant autumn reds, oranges and yellows irradiating the blue sky with licks of fiery colors. It's energizing, and foreboding in the same breath. At home, I cherished fall, the reprieve from the suffocating heat.  But in Korea, fall is an omen of the strangulating cold that is sure to  smother all that lives into an icy submission.  Instead of loving fall in Korea, as I feel I ought to, I shiver at the prospects of the coming winter.  Winter is by far, at least in my Texas eyes, the longest of seasons.  Its hold grips tightly from October through April, only allowing Spring, Fall and Summer 6 months to share between them.  This year, I'm happy not to have to endure the full extent of the Korean winter, but even the spirited breeze whipping around my bare calves this morning was enough to make me run to my classroom and its only September. I do look forward to taking pictures of the changing leaves, and runs outside without heatstroke, but other than that, there is only apprehension of the wind changing.  Winter is coming, and not far behind, my hibernation.