The air is cool and crisp outside. I lie in my bed, my hair smelling of Pantene, fall nights and the crackling ashes of an outdoor fire pit.
It is nights like these I'm most thankful for the friends I've found.
Fall is here. It's official. He's arrived and brought an oversized sweatshirt with him - and the best pumpkin beer I've ever tasted (but which probably gave me the crippling headache from which I now suffer).
I'm back in the Carolinas. The transition was tough at first. I was surprised to find that after only two weeks in Boston it felt like I lived there, living a kind of strange, transient existence with no daily obligations. Idyllic but with no sense of space or time.
When I returned the languid heat smacked me in the face the moment I deplaned. I harbored a haglike mood for days. For the first time, I truly hated the heat. I plotted my departure.
But then, just in time, a cold front moved into the Carolinas heralding the beginning of this most blessed season.
I escaped the clammy grip of death thrice in two weeks' time. Gratitude is mine.
I ran a 5K for the first time under 30 minutes. A day ago, I ran six miles instead of my dictated 4.5 training schedule. It seems autumn breathed its crisp, pumpkin-laced breath into my legs and lungs. I can breathe easier (despite crippling allergies lately).
The sky truly is a deeper blue these days. The stars seem closer. There's reason to hold onto loved ones longer. Kisses are sweeter. The season has turned its leaves just in time. And life is good.
I'll fall asleep breathing in the scent of my own hair - it holds earth, wind, fire and friendship.