Since last week, there have been more leaves on the ground every morning, and the breeze that stirs the trees has a new and pleasant chill.
This weekend, I'll dig among my boxes stored in the garage, find my sweaters, and lug them upstairs in big armfuls. I'll savor the texture of rough wool, big wooden buttons, heavy woven cloth as I hang them carefully in my closet.
Fall has a unique flavor; it carries a curious blend of culmination and nostalgia as Summer's long count defers to Autumn's contemplative harvest.
We are a ship headed out from summer port, waving farewell to palms and white shores. Our course is set for winter seas, but in the rhythm of time's subtle algorithms, Autumn will swirl her molten skirt of woven leaves about us. Her fingers trail cinnamon, her voice is a whispered song. Heavy with the smell of warm land and ripe fruit, she will travel with us, fill our sails with a gentle wind until grey skies come.
The afternoon light will take on a hue of deeper gold, and it will cut yellow slashes in the blinds.
In the fall, the floorboards in the kitchen are cold to my bare feet, but that means my coffee will taste better in the morning.
I must admit, I do not always recognize Autumn's step. At times, in the midst of struggling against life's cold quicksand, I have overlooked this season's light step.
Even this morning, my heart felt what I deemed the siege of Verlaine's capricious and monotonous langour, caught a whiff of Baudelaire's dreaded ennui of the damned. The world seemed less joyful, more tired, and everything in motion slowed.
Yet, after sitting awhile in a cafe listening to elder jazz from yesteryears, sipping my cappuccino, I realized I was mistaken. This subtle eclipse of summer's fire was no ponderous perfume from a jardin de fleurs du mal- it was the entry of Autumn.
I sensed that Autumn was not a passive gear, a faceless cog in the autonomy of Nature's cycling and enduring script. Rather, I saw a beautiful woman with a kind face and flowing hair. Deer stopped to look at her, and birds flew overhead. She bore a basket filled with garden fruits, and wore a dress of scarlet, gold, and earthy hues. She peered over the threshold, smiled, and crossed with a quiet step.
