This morning I went for a run, the mile or so to our town's little park+lake. It was 37 degrees when I left? Frosty and I was bundled. The lake is surrounded by woods--tall tall trees and legit wild life. I got to the park and there were a group of people in running clothes hula hooping (what? and *love*), I didn't join in (though there were offers and extra hula hoops) but ran instead along the trail that is, apparently, a cross country skiing trail in the winter. I was running into the sun, but the weeds were still covered in frost. I scared a couple of deer that were 20 feet ahead of me on the trail another 15 feet off the trail where they watched me run by. Then the trail narrowed so I started walking. I paused at a spot on the lake shore where the water was so glassy it looked like if I jumped in (which I considered momentarily--it would be ok if I had dry clothes waiting, right?) I would fall into the sky. I watched two dozen geese floating on the water, then swimming, then calling to each other.
And it was so lovely and so perfect.
Tonight it's chilly (which for the moment feels bracing and wonderful) and smells like woodsmoke and the moon is slivered and smokey and...I guess the moral of the story is that I love the fall. And I live in an absolutely perfect place. And EB White: eat your heart out. :) And, when I get my iPhone, won't you all feel lucky?
Love love love,