Yes, I know I've mentioned my near obsessive love affair with fall. If fall were a person, I would be walking consistently ten surreptitious steps behind it on the streets, wearing sunglasses so folks wouldn't realize I'm staring at it's ass with lust glazed eyes. I would circle it’s building in hopes of "accidentally" running into it; I would shop at the same stores for the same reason. I would be continuously leaving ever more threatening voicemails asking why it wasn't calling me back. I would bide my time until the restraining order became official.
But today is that perfect early fall day, what with the pale blue and slightly hazy sky, what with the slight cold in the air and the leaves just beginning to turn. It's the sort of day that makes me wish I wasn't at work. Well let's be honest, even if it was raining flaming kerosene and blowing rancid ox farts from the southeast I would rather not be at work on a Saturday morning. But today is the perfect day for strolling through the market, drinking strong coffee and making something homey and fulfilling to eat.
The thing that I'm looking forward to the most right now is sleeping in tomorrow morning; me, Biffy and the cats being all sleep lazy and listening to Preaching the Blues on KEXP. I’m looking forward to it being just cold enough that it feels good to be covered up, but not so cold that you fear getting out of a hot shower and you end up listening to all of The Slider by T. Rex, delaying the inevitable step out onto frigid linoleum, all wrinkled and waterlogged. I'm hoping that the sky holds clear and maybe eventually taking that walk around town and laughing at our own stupid jokes.
If there is one lesson that I cannot learn enough in this life, it's that it really is the little things...
Zeptember song of the day: Sick Again.
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2 comments:
what i like best about fall are those blustery and foggy October days when then ground is damp and speckled with orange, red, and yellow leaves, where you feel like at any moment the headless horsemen is going to charge you wielding an axe and laughing, you dive out of the way just in time, an old man offers a helping hand and invites you back to his house to sit by the fireplace and warm up with a bowl of homemade butternut squash soup and a hot cocoa for the road, he makes a pass at you so you spray the hot cocoa in his eyes, momentarily blinding him, then knock him out by shattering the mug on the back of his head and drag him into the closet, you sit there a moment taking it all in, finish your soup, and walk home, those are the best fall days.
Oh, the smell of October.
The only month that has a smell is October.
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