I love this weather; it's got a hint of crispness, yet the warmth of the sun still cradles the weight of your heavy bones. It's not too late, not too early, and change comes upon us quickly and stealthily. That moment when you blink, when your eyelids shut for just shy of a few mili-seconds--that's the divide. When you open your eyes again, Summer is bowing its adieus and Autumn is coming in. She is opening the door, she is rearranging her papers, polite, brisk, reserved, but means well (it's Winter you should be afraid of).
Now is a moment to breathe, a short respite from extremity of any sort. Yet you take a moment to address some sort of lingering wistfulness, because you know that it won't be long until you're dreaming of those dog days of summer once again. Gone are the days you never thought you'd miss, their drudgery and the quick-to-anger burn of the sweltering afternoons. True. But gone also are the clearest turquoise waters that you've ever seen, the freedom of non-structure, the faraway lands and tucked away spaces, the ever-so-slight rescind of time's bony fingers.
So let's take a moment.
Look closely, my dears. There are pennies in his loafers!