Autumn, Come She Will


I come alive in the fall.

All summer long, I lay dormant, waiting for the subtle shift of the evening light and the accompanying brisk air.  I endure summer, treating it as an inconvenience.  I trudge through the heat, sweat in the sun, and generally try to keep my grumbling to a minimum.  My productivity and creativity wane in these months as I wait for the days to melt away.

But fall? Ah, that’s the stuff.

Walking yesterday with my canine companion through the horse trails near my home, I felt it.  A slight breeze danced across my path, playing with my hair and filling my lungs with the promise of cooler days and crunchy leaves.

I stopped and noticed the sun hanging lower in the sky; the golden hour of the day was positively bewitching and, dare I say, magical.

Call it Autumn.  Call it fall.

I don’t care what you call it.

As long as it comes.

And she has.

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