Cusp

The autumn chill, still in infancy, dancing about my bare legs as a means of introduction. Remembering its older sibling, I am smart in wearing a long sleeved top, a seasoned defense measure.

Autumn has been birthed quickly. What's unique this year is the notable absence of the midwifery of storms. The new season had been in hiding amongst the white shawls draping the Sangre de Cristo, the Jemez.

This morning, autumn colludes with a wind that bites with new teeth. I stand amidst it, greeting it with a smile. Then I turn and step back into the warm house, still clinging to the memory of summer, warmed by yesterday's sun.

On the turntable: CSN, "Deja Vu"