Fall, in her orange and yellow cloak has been creeping around the state, and I for one am glad to see her.
All of yesterday we had a steady north wind blowing down the dry soybean field, rattling the beans in their dry husks, pushing cars down the interstate toward the city. I kept finding reasons to be outside yesterday, so that I could stand turned into the wind, loving the feel of nature on my face.
Have you ever noticed a dog suddenly turn their face into the breeze, half close their eyes and start scenting the air, as though their sight were detracting from that esoteric message the zephyr was bringing their twitching damp noses? I knew how those dogs felt yesterday. Feeling the cool breeze on my cheeks, I closed my eyes to keep the sights from distracting me from the promise of cool mornings, crisp leaves underfoot, the sharp tang of northern breezes. I could smell cold afternoons, warm under my coat, boots crunching brown grass, and the warm barnyard smell of animals in a barn, chewing on sweet hay, their breath senting the air with clover and the promise of a return to Spring. I could smell creeping tendrils of cold air threading their way into my helmet vents, making me shiver with delight under my heavy leather jacket.
Fall is coming. The Farmer's Almanac is promising a very cold, very hard winter (for us, at least, here in the south,) but I'm not worried about that yet. Right now I have my face resolutely turned toward Fall's steady approach, ready to greet her with open heart and welcoming smile.