In digging through some old material, I found this from October 5, 2009. This was before kids. When I still drove a stick shift. The musings of a twenty-something me.
There is something about this time of year that encourages introspection.
Something about the quiet rustle of the frail fallen leaves that collect in the corners of the yard.
That rustle stirs my thoughts.
Something about dark mornings and waiting patiently for a small glimpse of dawn before confronting the day.
Disappointment in the alarm that continues to beat the sun.
Something about the comfort of rumpled sweaters that release that dusty closet smell at first whiff.
When the turtle hits the neck I long to retreat into my shell. Crawl back into bed.
Something about downloading soft music to choreograph the morning drive.
Shifting gears in rhythm and in synch. Accelerating into Monday.