Up North the leaves are changing color all over the place...In the heart of Dixie, trees atop the crest of the Smokies are coated in rime ice...Out West, a road in Rocky Mountain National Park has already undergone a temporary closing due to snow.
Here in Florida, fall's arrival is much less dramatic but every bit as noticeable. There has been a chill in the air each of the last two mornings and evenings. Meanwhile, the afternoons have brought warmth without heat and it has been mild enough to sit outside under bright sunny skies without sweating.
Yesterday I went outside with my morning coffee before the sun was up. I sat on the back porch, soaking up the chill, relishing the feel of not being rushed, and watched the sky gradually change from black to orange to blue with the rising of the sun. Sarah joined me just as the black was starting to fade, and for a six-year-old she seemed to enjoy the spectacle very much.
Today I rode my bike under a high-arching, sapphire sky that had not a single cloud, and the sense of autumnal verve was palpable. The leaves sounded crisp as they rustled in the breeze. Families with fishing poles cast their lines far out into our neighborhood ponds. The birds seemed to have an extra gear in their wings as they flapped about.
Each of Earth's seasons has its own special qualities, and I appreciate them without exception. But every year I become more and more convinced that fall is the most majestic season of all.