I went for a walk this morning. It was at 7:00am. The day was dawning and the sky was incredible before the sunrise. The moon was settling down in the west. There were some clouds in the east that reflected the coming sun—they were bright purple, then pink, then orange.
I was stepping into the first true day of fall. It was only 52º here. I could actually see my breath just a bit. I had to put a warm hat on my head. I also had to put on sleeves as in one of my old chamois camp shirts. First time in months that I’ve been more concerned about staying warm than keeping cool.
I also wear a safety vest when I’m walking this time of year because it’s not fully light yet. The school buses will be running and folks sometimes are not fully awake when they come barreling down Cross Valley Road. I had thought at one point about getting another bright orange Tennessee jacket, but the vests were on sale for a $1.00 at the thrift store—cheaper, quicker, easier piece of gear.
I know that the autumnal equinox had occurred on Tuesday evening—Maggie and I were out camping for it—but this was the first real taste of fall. Cool, clear, crisp!
I think most folks know the feeling. You can tell the weather has turned. You know in your soul that things are different. You know that you have to think about what to put on your body if you’re heading outside for activities. You think about your sweatshirts and sweaters and jackets that have been unused through the heat of Dog Days and the Last Breath of Summer. Your mindset begins to shift with the season.
Now the sun is up and the sky is that beautiful shade of blue. There is little humidity right now. There is no chance of summer haze. The air has changed.
I have to admit that this day excites me in a special way. Spring is beautiful; summer is hot, hazy, humid, and wet; but fall is full of its own energy. It is colorful and clear. It is fruitful and tasty. It is cozy and snug.
It smells different. Apples and caramel. Soups and stews. Turkey and taters. Chili and beans. Wood smoke! Ah, wood smoke!
Football is back. Tennessee is playing Texas in their SEC opener today—both teams ranked. As if that wasn’t enough Donald Trump decided he wanted to come and see it as well. Glad not to be getting into that traffic nightmare. That part of fall can pretty much go on without my presence.
Indeed, that word strikes me now—presence. There is something tangibly different in the presence of fall. The light, the weather, the temperaure, the smells, the tastes, the feeling of fullness—all of these seem to take on a different quality in these weeks.
Or perhaps it is a difference in me.
I delight in breathing in cool Canadian air that has made the journey southward. I relish the tastes of cider, pumpkin, coffee, and hot chocolate. I listen to the breeze blowing dried leaves to the ground to carpet the forest floor. I hear an elk bugle during the rut. I watch the campfire sparkle and pop and see the smoke curl as it rises. I remember such experiences from the past.
I don my wool shirts and socks. I slip into the comfort and familiarity of camp shirts that I have used for years—old friends more than clothing items.
Today is the first day that I simply sit and absorb autumn’s arrival—not marked on the calendar as such, but clearly impressed on my spirit.
