The Last Candle

The autumnal equinox was several days ago, but it didn’t make itself known until today. The mercury is stable at 65°; the sky is covered in gray pastels, with the occasion blue tear and rare warmth of the sun peeking through; the breeze is tentatively cool and unabashedly removed from the swollen humid Summer winds. Today, in Mount Pleasant, comes the first day of Fall. <p/> This morning, my history professor peered around the room after he entered and exclaimed in his regal British accent how the room looked totally devoid of energy and blamed it on everyone coming back late from yesterday’s appearance of Micheal Moore. (For me, it was getting up an hour early to go to an office hours appointment. That lost hour of sleep coupled with going to be at about 3AM really smarts.) The guy to my left chuckled, then leaned over and said: “Or maybe — just maybe — it’s the Michigan weather.” Right on. <p/> I am very much looking forward to bundled clothing, walks back to the apartment in the sharp air (that, additionally, don’t make me sweat like a bear in a sauna), trips to the vegetable and produce market in Clare, cider (both “soft” and hard), drives over to Uncle John’s Cider Mill for donuts, pumpkins, and even more cider, stouts and porters (which don’t seem nearly as nice in the warm months), and finally — and this is where Fall really scores — staying indoors, sealed from the outside chill, frost, and dusk enjoying hearty times with friends. Bring. It. On.