The poem in my heart today is fall, fall, fall. I know we're only halfway through August. But I can feel things changing. The sun seems as though it is shining through a creamy grey filter. The vibrant edges of nature are being softened. The crickets are chirping still, but to a more lethargic tempo. The birds have been visiting the feeder often. I think they feel a keener hunger in their bellies. They can sense the change, too.
And I can feel myself winding down. This has been a fantastically free summer - free of alarm clocks, free of crunched time, free of tedium. But after all that freedom, I can feel my mind and my body drawing themselves toward routine again. Though I don't quite want to admit it, the deep parts of me are yearning for fall and its cool, steady ways.