It has arrived. The sky with colors like sharpened pencils and the air that tastes like stainless steel.
We leave our house and the leaves swirl around our ankles like the Pomeranians next door.
The ducks in the park are more frantic, as if they know…time to plump up.
This is the time when the kids play till dark, though dark comes way past their bedtimes. And you put them to bed still sparkling, with fresh air between their toes and in the creases behind their ears.
Sweaters lose their itchiness- you grab them as you flee the stuffy confines of the indoors. Tights become tolerable, scarves jump from their storage boxes.
You start to notice those ugly squash in the supermarket. The phrase, “pumpkins, already?” escapes you often.
Everything suddenly smells of apples and burning leaves and frost on trees.
And when you sit outside with coffee and papers to grade, you can stare into the dancing trees without fear that anyone will think you crazy, because they are all suddenly doing the same thing. And you all get caught up in some sort of remembering- remembering something we tend to forget during the summer, something that creeps across our cheeks and onto the back of our tongues and into our bones with the twinge of cold fingertips.
Yes, Fall. And I am more awake than ever.