God it was beautiful yesterday evening. The humidity was lower than it has been in months. The temperature was absolutely perfect. As the sun began to set and the shadows grew long there was a smell, a cleanliness that I equate with Autumn. Without the humidity and haze of heat, there is a clarity I can't quite describe, but it's almost as if you can see every vein on every leaf from across the yard - each one swollen with anticipation, ready to explode into color.
I know that traditionally, Spring is seen as the season of birth and new life, but for me, it's Autumn that feels so fresh and new - a cleansing of the sweaty stickiness of August as it immerses itself in September, like a dip in the lake - just so natural and refreshing.
So I stood out on the back porch and thought. I don't know what I thought, I just remember absorbing the promise from the breeze, and soaking up the late afternoon warmth that crept away with the shadows as they snuck across the grass and faded away.
This morning the dew was chilled with it, that something about Autumn, and it soaked into my toes as I walked to the mailbox shortly after dawn and I found myself wishing for a sweater. I couldn't help but smile and think that Fall had been delivered on the turning wheels of the school bus - it's been creeping into the air since classes restarted.
Maybe Fall is a yearly lesson, a reminder to love, to live - the promise that no matter how oppressed we may feel, or how we may be suffocating in the thickness of our lives - there is always a clean Autumn breeze, and cool dew-soaked grass in which to dip our toes. We need only be patient enough to wait for it.