Fall, it creates pictures in my mind of red and orange leaves that fall gently to the ground but if you were to step on it there would be a distinct crackle sound that resonates throughout the soul. The air is crisp and clean, early in the morning or at dusk when the sun goes down and the air is purple you can see your breath as it hangs on your lips, searching for its next stop.
You can hear the crickets chirping, its soft and sweet and rhythmic, lulling you into a dream. Fall is not for the faint of heart, it requires a push and a shove for some people, but for me I fall freely. I let fall take over me, dictate what I do, how I see the world. It is probably one of the only times I really let myself go, let myself feel as if tomorrow was forever and today was yesterday.
I jump at the chance to pull those thick Irish sweaters from the closet, let the smell of last fall settle over me, getting ready for the new sights, sounds and smells of this one that is to come. There is a tea that I drink only at fall and winter, I refuse to make it in the spring or summer, it awakens my taste buds as its sweet and savory softness flow through my mind.
One of my favorite things about moving to the East Coast is the mist that hangs heavy over the trees, its as if we have suddenly found ourselves in a shrouded mystery, a romance story or a line of poetry. I often wish that the sun would never find that gap in the mist to burn it away, to burn away the mystery that only mist can bring.
Fall calls to me, I can feel it in my bones. It whispers to me, telling me to find myself, telling me to find what I am made of. I'll wait for that first full moon of fall, and wish on the stars that streak across the sky...