The tired leaves of the summer-loving crepe myrtles are turning to vivid gold and red and falling softly to the surface of the deck. On those few precious minutes that I get to sit on my deck at the end of the day, the table is covered with the remnants of the bright pink petals that are now a dark red turning to brown and falling almost like a soft snow. The light reflecting off the buildings as I drive by them on the way home from work is becoming more golden. The air still feels soft with the remnants of summer heat but there is a little tiny edge to it of crispness that hasn't been there before. And the heavy rains, a much needed gift from Hurricane Fay, have cleaned the air of our normal haze and given it such clarity that I can see the north Georgia mountains from our office windows, high up on the 47th floor of our building.
Fall is coming. And soon. And I welcome it and mourn for summer at the same time. But change is natural, both in my life and in the seasons.
Joy Journal: A soft, cool breeze keeping me comfortable while sitting in the sun at lunch.