September, and Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back on the menu. Eyes are tired and coffee is a permanent fixture in my hand on the cool walks to class through soggy leaves. The sky, gray and cloudy, hangs like a blanket overhead, calling me inside to drink tea, read a book, and avoid responsibilities.
Leaves shake loose from the trees in the cool breeze, fluttering down in a shower of oranges, reds and dry greens. Lawns are strewn with the red paint splashes. Grass is damp and spongey underfoot and the walk to class is a little nicer. Stiff winds blow off bright red brick buildings the color of the leaves still clinging to the trees.
Air is spiced, chilly and electric. Classes are getting harder and planners, journals and notebooks are filled to the brim; their own leaves threaten to pull straight from their spines.
It’s not quiet cool enough yet, but soon. The snow piles high up on the mountains which I admire while I walk. Peaks capped in dusty white, illuminated against the backdrop of the soft purple of the setting sun. This is my favorite part of the season.
There are new colors, new smells and feelings. Each time I step outside I’m overstimulated, like a puppy learning about its new surroundings, overturning leaves and twigs. I feel creativity course through me, brought on by the sensations of fall.
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