The Fall

A fellow student of mine mentioned in class today how nice it is to feel the air beginning to cool, to which the girl next to her replied, "I hate the Fall. Everything's dying, and summer is ending, and all you have to look forward to is Winter. It's depressing."

I could not disagree more.

This time of year every year something changes in me, and it's usually sparked by a random, seemingly insignificant event. A few years ago I left the university bookstore feeling molested, as usual, by being forced to spend my limited funds on ridiculously over-priced textbooks. I came around the edge of the building and spotted a few red leaves amongst the scrub oak thickets atop mountains overlooking the valley, which literally (meaning in real actuality) sent chills down my spine.

I remember last year taking Rudy for an after-dark walk and filling my lungs with refreshingly cool air that was saturated with that familiar September scent of sun-scorched earth and sagebrush. Yeah it sounds cheesy, but it was like breathing in pure energy for my soul.

I experienced it again last week when the cold rain came through Lincoln and I could feel the Fall in the air. Images of backyard barbeques, college football stadium lights, campfires smoldering, and antlers bouncing toward me through the aspens came into my mind. I love the fall. It's arrival somehow awakens passion in me and anxious anticipation for life. I got it really bad this year for some reason (bad enough to post about it). I took Rudy dove hunting last night (pictures are forthcoming) and surprised myself. I haven't been this excited for a dove hunt since I was 16.

I have no idea how someone can use adjectives like dying, ending, and depressing to describe the season. They've obviously never seen what I've seen or felt what I've felt.