Fall

It is the cool smell of Fall on the breeze this late summer afternoon, such a scent on such a day fills to overflowing the well of my soul, nearly pushing tears up over the edges.  Why?  Why is it a smell can reach somehow so deeply into me?  

Are we all meant to bloom in some certain season?  If so, I believe my blooming season to be Fall.  It has always struck me as the most beautiful of the seasons.  Gone is the joyful chaos of Spring and Summer’s oppressive heat.  Fall is thoughtful and sober, though not somber, as it prepares for Winter’s arrival.  Fall is a time to savor the beauty that does not stay the same, the beauty that changes when it returns the next time around.  Fall is a time to acknowledge mortality with eyes wide open to all the beauty carried on its breath.