As I sit here in a sweatshirt guzzling tea in the second week of September, I miss the Indian summers of the Midwest. In Illinois I'm sure the word autumn isn't even on anyone's lips yet, and if I were there I wouldn't be pulling out my sweaters or jackets until mid-October. I look at the weather app on my phone which, for sentimental reasons, tells me not only my local weather but also that of Iowa City and where my parents live. And I am crazy jealous of the 97℉ and 93℉ predicted for them today, even though those are insanely high for this time of year. In the Midwest, it's still full-blown summer, while here it's a cloudy 50℉ and the air is starting to smell faintly of the crisp cold that winter will bring. The mid-60s to low-70s is actually my favorite temperature range--or so I thought until my first summer spent in the UK. Though we had a few weeks of a "heat wave", it stayed in the 70s most of the summer, and I only got to go swimming at the gorgeous beaches around here once. I have to say, I was disappointed, and I realized how much I love the extremes of the Midwest, both the heat and the cold. I think it's why I appreciate that perfect middle range so much at home, while here--well, it feels like all one season. This time last year I was too distracted by having just arrived in the UK, but this year, I'm definitely going to miss autumn in the Midwest. The changing of the leaves, corn mazes and apple orchards, and the temperatures (but definitely NOT the annoyances of football season living in Iowa City).