Autumn

Source: Helga Ni via Flickr

Summer is slowly fading away, dissolving into a faint memory, an afterthought.

Just yesterday, as the resident male and I drove to have brunch at Screendoor (yummy yum yum southern cooking with numerous vegetarian options), a single yellow leaf fell onto the car. I screamed, "No, not yet!"

You are conscious of the slow shift in the seasons; the air is crisper, the rain has returned. Also, as I peer outside my window every morning, staring at the different shades of green on the rolling Sylvan hills (interrupted only by dots with chimneys and different colored roofs), the familiar autumn mist steadily encroaches the sky, threatening to consume the hills.

All this is a reminder that autumn is at the door.