I notice it when the sun doesn’t come streaming in my bedroom window at 6 o’clock in the morning, that absence telling me the day may not be filled with abundant sunshine. Instead I can see hints of a sky just turning blue. Sunshine, even when plentiful, may be treacherous for there may still be a chill in the air. Reluctant to get out of bed, and to accept the impending official departure of summer, I drag myself to the window and look outside, rebuking that great ball of fire. It rose late and it’ll set early too, I think, sulking by myself, scowling at no one but my reflection.
Sweaterless outfits will have to be packed away, I know, to make way for the sleeves and layers and jackets I must don soon. Pale shades of yellow will be traded for deep purple tones. Long, carefully chosen pieces of finished blue silk will wrap around a neck successfully keeping it warm in these early days, as the weather is noticeably cooler, but warm enough to evade wool. For the last time, these days remind me of the walk down to the drugstore, two years ago. Remember, always, to not wrap your dreams around anyone else; they can shake them off as they would an itchy sweater on a day like today, when they can do without.
As I sip my coffee on the balcony in the morning, starting another day, I take a moment to stand still. Belying the apparent calmness of the scene, tips of green blades of grass quiver in the crisp breeze which rustles yellow leaves turning red turning brown, the colour of the earth they are soon to meet. Branches sway in a gentle rhythm, moving to the whispered melody of the wind’s song. With a soulful deep breath, I watch the last remaining flowers flutter, as some are plucked from their stems and sent hurtling along the transverse movements of the quietly powerful whisperer.
A white trench-coat is grabbed on the way out. Did someone say not to wear white after Labour Day? I wonder what they meant. As the wind drapes my body like an invisible scarf, a leaf crunches under a pointed heel and soft sunlight bounces off the sunglasses, I accept the beauty around me. A smile appears, inevitable, unbidden, mirroring the atmosphere, reflecting the myriad of colours filling my vision. Seasons change; such is life. It’s autumn and it’s beautiful and I know I’ll love this too.