When I ran this morning, the chill wind blew on my face like so many 5k's I used to race. Fresh-cut grass mixed with the scent of dying leaves. The little children screamed.
There was a taste to my saliva, that mixture of lactic acid crystallized by the same cold air, that doesn't come in the sun and heat. I wondered what special children's soccer league might have them running up and down the fields at this time of year, what socioeconomic tendencies I might assume from year-long soccer drills, when I remembered.
I had forgotten about fall. The wind was chill, the leaves were dying, the children were screaming - because it's fall.
This is supposed to happen.
4 years ago
1 comment:
This is so lovely I'd like to comment on it, but I don't want to detract from the loveliness by saying silly words.
You're right though, Andrew. Fall happens every time in our hemisphere.
This is a wild deviation from what you're saying, but this reminded me of being further toward the equator and people asking me with a shade of disbelief 'are there seasons in your country?'
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