In the past week, Fall has taken a firm hold. Mornings are cool and even the afternoon warmth feels thin, as if the sunlight itself is increasingly in need of a rest.
In the evenings I crack open my window before I climb under my quilt and I fall asleep to the sounds of the drying leaves crackling and crunching as they brush against against one another, preparing to fall into the yards and streets of my neighborhood. In the morning, there is a cold dew that blankets the day and a chill that holds even as the sun rises.
The dogwood is clearly doing its part to enjoy the season.
Fall is in the air and it feels lovely.