Six Word Story: Getting Lost in the Woods

The fresh canopy is my rotunda.

-Stormy Peterson

The Wind is Back...

That seems to be the only discernible difference between August, and September here -- the wind.  Before you feel that first bite of fall air, before the sun's heat doesn't seem to match up with its bright brilliance anymore, before the darkened mornings' fog horns begin their end of year song (... and the rain), there's the wind, and you know that fall is sure to follow.  The funny thing is, I forget about it every year.  Hard to imagine since it blows from September through June, but I forget about it.  I love it, but I forget.

And suddenly it comes back to me, bringing me back to life like a fresh promise after surviving the unforgiving summer heat.

It's so strange to me, once upon a time an original Sun Goddess living for high elevations, dry air, and hot, hot, hot weather -- 120°F in the desert?  Who cares, let's do this!  I now find a wildness in subtleties more alluring, and intense in a slightly playful way that tickles the imagination in the same way my hair kisses the back of my neck as the wind moves through it.  Or maybe I'm just another (overly) Romantic in a long list of many who were better with words than I'll ever be that feels the need at least once per year to create another ode of sorts to a passing season.  What I do know for sure is when September comes around, the little slice of Earth I live on breathes a sigh of relief, and me along with it.

xoxo