What are men compared to rocks and mountains?

Kids are going back to school, and I saw a handful of red leaves in the mountains.
Suddenly it feels like the dregs of summer, the end of the line, and time for a chill. Every time the sky is remotely overcast, I rush into the house for the boys' new jeans and sweaters - still too big and stiff from sitting in their closet since I bought them in the spring.
They're unnecessary, always.
But I can't help it.
Let it be fall! my heart whispers. Let there be cold, and leaf piles, and Halloween costumes! Let there be bouquets of sharpened pencils.

Oh, boo. It's only August. We have another two months of hot summer weather in Utah.
You know those school, coming-of-age, and often-football movies? The ones where the kids run to catch the bus in their new, bright-blue untorn jeans and sweaters, and the leaves lining that little country road are already orange and falling. The sky is brighter blue than ever seen in the summer or winter. Oh, Fall!
I'm pretty sure those are all filmed in Maine or Minnesota.
Utah just doesn't have fall quite right.

So I've found my heart turned instead to the mountains. That place of cool breezes and pattering rain. The place where leaves really are turning red, and my kids' jeans aren't wholly unnecessary.
We've been driving up into the canyons night after night. Seeking out little dirt paths to run barefoot down and old-fashioned trains to ride.
Tonight we're going to try to sleep overnight in a tent for the first time in the boys' lives.
I'm nervous, but excited. I just keep thinking about long-sleeve jammies and quilts.
Let there be fall! Let there be fall! 

We actually forgot to bring the boys shoes. Somehow.