I was walking to work Saturday morning when I looked to the sidewalk ahead of me and saw something very exciting: a dead leaf.  A brown, crunchy, dead leaf.  It was steps out of my way, but I veered to the right and hopped to land on top of it.  I heard the satisfying crunch, along with the laughter of a girl behind me who was probably half my age.  But it’s all good because fall is here.

Autumn in New York (the season, not the crappy Winona Ryder death movie) is my favorite.  You’ve got the crunchy leaves on the ground, along with the orange ones in the trees.  Central Park in the fall is a golden rainbow.  The air has just the right amount of chill in it to keep you (but not me) from sweating while walking around the city.  The effects of KFC meals (more later) are easier to hide under trendy H & M jackets.  Football season has started, which in New York involves alumni watch parties at various bars and running into people you haven’t seen all year (though maybe for a reason).  It all just feels like a new beginning, even if you don’t know what’s next.  But something about fall makes that uncertainty fresh and exciting.

The leaf was the first sign of the turnover.  Then yesterday I sat up on the BF’s roof while he manned his fantasy football empire inside.  After about thirty minutes and a turn away from the sun, I started to get cold.  At 3 pm.  Then we went to church (where we were reminded of a God who, for our sakes, cannot be controlled.  Welcome back, Tim!).  When the service was over and we walked outside, we were greeted by darkness.  No more summer 8 pm sunsets.  And then, on the walk home, there was this:

This is the Park Avenue restaurant that changes its name, menu, and decor with each season.  Since it is a super nice and expensive restaurant, I’ve only been once–last summer when some cousins were in town (and paying). Then, the awning was yellow and the dining room was white.  We had chilled soup and lemonade cocktails.  It was not dark outside.  This is one of those Only in New York places, and even if I can’t afford to eat there I love that it exists.

A few steps later, we looked to our right and had another Only in New York moment when we saw this:

WTF?  A bunch of ceramic sheep sitting on the grassy median of Park Avenue.  Since I roll with Jesus, I (sometimes inconveniently) believe there is a reason for everything.  But New York, like God, isn’t always immediately forthcoming with reasons.  So I settled on remembering that we’re all God’s sheep and need him as our shepherd so that we don’t end up looking as out of place as a lost sheep on the streets of  New York City.  Then I remembered that’s exactly what I am most of the time, and I laughed because my Shepherd has a sense of humor.

So the reason that the BF and I were walking down Park Avenue is because he had gotten some coupons in the mail this week.  Some KFC coupons.  Specifically, one for a $15.99 meal for four.  Since the proper response to this is, “Hell yeah!” followed by a googlemaps search for the nearest KFC, that is what we did, which took us to 42nd and Madison on our walk home.  And we brought our bucket of fried chicken (grilled is nasty and who goes to Kentucky FRIED Chicken for that anyway?), tubs of mac and cheese and mashed potatoes, and FOUR biscuits to the couch and paired them with a lovely Cabernet.  And by lovely I of course mean a $7 bottle from Trader Joes’s.  We ate the chicken that, for about a fifth of the price, was far superior to the entree I had at Freeman’s last week.  And we switched back and forth between the Cowboys/Giants game and the Emmys.  New York, Jesus, sheep, fall, KFC, wine, TV and the BF?  Sounds like a great beginning to me.