The weather change invigorated me. I rode to work with sleeves for the first time in months, barely breaking a sweat. I felt in a good mood. The cool weather signals a new beginning. It is an evolutionary time for me and the world. The autumn is my favorite season although it makes me fear winter, the steamy breath and thick jackets and woolen hats and bright high skies streaked with wispy cirrus clouds and effervescent with sun.
Fifteen degrees in one day?! The seasons pass and we begin new routines and understand ourselves differently, past selves as the fools we were, present selves expectant and hard-working for a new season, a new beginning. Future selves as better than we have ever been. Our lives are ruled by the trees, the leaves budding, blooming, coloring, cracking.
It is all I can do to keep pedaling and writing and hoping and waiting and living. I spoke to my friend Alex from high school last night for an hour and a half and he said that the world was crazy and beautiful and hard and entirely fucked up, which it is. And people drop out of the race every day, doing different things, dying.
But right now, I’m going to go to Manhattan and celebrate the changing. I am new and reborn because of the temperature drop. No one can tell me otherwise. Now it is fall and I am older and still alive.