my favorite time of day, besides those five seconds spent on my tiptoes in the kitchen, kissing robert while juggling a purse, bookbag, dog leash and high heels, is mail time. it's not a long walk to our mailbox. not like my parents' driveway, that long, curved asphalt.
it's just a straight walk on a gravel drive. under pin oaks and the sun, setting sooner than i would like, spreading a golden bath on the day. and quite honestly, i never get any mail, save for a few celebrity magazines and some bills (such is the fodder of a young woman i suppose.)
but it's the walk that counts. those seconds, brief and fleeting though they might be, are solely mine for the taking. for the savoring and devouring. a reprieve between work and home. a soul recharge.
and autumn is busy. it's gorgeous, but its hurried and full of festivals. pumpkin patches. county fairs. i'm afraid i've thought too much about the season as a noun--the way it tastes, smells and feels. i've reduced it to an idea in a storybook, a paragraph on a page.
but i haven't sat. on a white swing in the sunset. with the evening hitting me square on my closed eyes. and thanked the Lord for october. for the change that's in the air. and for the anticipation of something on the horizon, just past the mailbox, and before the hill up ahead. a moment of flat, solid ground before the leap. a breath of cool before the cold.