It’s been raining on and off for a few days now and when we came out of the restaurant tonight, the air smelled cold. It already smelled like winter. October started out warm and lazy, like it had forgotten to be October, but now it is remembering and hurrying us along toward the snow and ice.
The days may be shrinking, the birds may be leaving, but this is my favorite time of year. The chill, the slow, steady rains, the leaning angle of the sun – I love it. When I go outside tomorrow morning I know more trees will have turned overnight, and there will be yellow and orange maple leaves clattering around everywhere and staining the sidewalks with the shadows of their passage.
This picture is from German Village in Columbus, Ohio, one of the surprise places in North America (“you’re going to… Columbus?”). This originally working class neighborhood is full of little 19th century red brick homes, none of them matching, many quite swankily gentrified, a jumble set along streets that are often still cobbled and sidewalks that are often still brick. Like the above: local brick, local stone, a scatter of fallen leaves, all seen on a day like today. I am remembering walking along this street and feeling very lucky to be alive, in that moment, looking for another adventure with someone I’ve been with for a long, long time.