Crisp

Fall is somehow all about expectation. Maybe remnants of back-to-school time. Some people look forward all year to the lazy, heavy days of summer. And I do like toes in the sand. But I anticipate tall-necked coats and hot tea in my hands. Sleeping with a window open to the chill and breathing hot breath with the covers over my head. Crunching leaves under my shoes as I walk, and walk, and walk with no end and the architecture of the city plays a movie for me.