sure, there’s no snow, no ice flurries, no trees ablaze in hues of red or orange as they say their final goodbye to their leaves, but i can feel it. it’s fall. the air is crisp, crows flit lucidly overhead, scavenging for abandoned jack-o-lanterns. neighbors walk their dogs quickly, eager to hurry back inside away from the chilling cold. the air is cold. it hangs silently. there’s no wind, merely a steady chill. my fingers always cold. yet, it’s festive. i pulled my heavy wool sweaters out from the depths of my closet, scarves, knitted hats, boots and tall socks have all returned, replacing the denim shorts and leather sandals of three months ago.
welcome, fall, it’s nice to see you again.