I'm having a difficult time focusing this morning. I mostly want to listen to the weepies in the sun. I also am craving winter. Cold cold weather. Which has never happened before. ever.

These past couple days I've just been imagining what it would be like to stand outside, wrapped in blankets and cold weather, linked in the arms and hands of good friends as we pass out free cups of hot coffee and tea to people who are fighting more than we are at the moment, braving the weather to walk to class or to their respective workplace. (This....of course, is not set here in Georgia. This fantasy probably takes place in Portland or some small town in Ireland or something).

It is late September here and only some leaves are turning. It's still ninety degrees this week.

I want the leaves to fall. I'm ready for them to start their finale.

I'm ready to retreat into small coffee shops with my books and friends and sit in the windows feeling the warmth of the sun that is so absent outside the doors.

I guess I'm ready for everything to be a little quieter. I don't really know.

I'm ready for fall. It's my favorite. I almost feel it's nature's greatest and most beautiful gift to us. This explosion of crimson and yellow and orange I believe is replicating the story of Christ's death for humanity somehow.

And then winter. It's like Narnia when Aslan leaves. It's quiet and cold and we hide in our homes burrowed deep in the earth and wait. Hoping.

Maybe....maybe that's why I want it to be winter. Maybe.