I went for a walk today
and smelled fall.
Which isn’t supposed to be here until tomorrow.
Not only did I smell it, it nipped at my heels and made my eyes water.
it felt good to feel the crispness on my face and pull my sleeves down over my fingers. And as I walked I thought about my summer. My gone- in-a-blink-of-an-eye, faster-than-a-speeding-bullet summer.
It was a good one.
One filled with visits with friends and bonding with family.
Adventures in true life and in print.
Of writing and reading.
Deconstructing and creating.
Resting and healing.
Of making things beautiful again.
And day upon day of glorious sunshine.
But I’m looking forward to fall expected to make its subtly crisp arrival known in only a few hours. A time where news services and weather channels aren’t obliged to report frost warnings because they’re a “given”.
A time of television “season premiers” and new toasty sweaters.
Shorter daylight hours and pumpkin spice lattes.
The mournful call of geese, frost on windows and the crunch of leaves.
And brilliant oranges, yellows and reds.
I have a feeling this season too,
will be a good one.