It was hot here, hot and steaming so that the air felt too thick to fit in your lungs.  There were days when I thought that people should be walking around in scuba masks.  One day, an old friend from New York called.  She asked if it was fall here yet, and I laughed and said no. 

The next morning, I went outside for a run.  All along City Park Ave, trees were dropping curled brown leaves.  The air was cool, and it had a freshness to it.  I thought nothing of it, or not a lot.  It was early, the sun was still working it’s way to the horizon. 

Later in the day, it was cloudy.  There was a strong breeze.  The leaves continued to drop.  And four days later, the weather has not changed.  I’m excited. 

I should have known that fall was drawing close.  The other day, I was walking to the bar and the first paragraph of a short story sprang into my brain.  I always write more and better in the fall and winter. 

I want to go to an orchard and collect apples, I want to harvest honey and defy bees.  Beekeeping runs in my family.  I wrote once about watching my great grandfather collect honey from a hive with no smoke or other equipment.  He had no stings when he finished, and I was terrified.  I thought that it would sting if he touched me.   It didn’t.

1 Comment

Filed under Musings, Uncategorized, writing

One response to “Autumnal

  1. What an interesting post – I’d love to hear more about the beekeeing.

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