I leave the front door of my house, exhaling, looking forward to the next fresh intake of air. It is October 1st.
Something changes in the air in October. A dead-leaf-grass-mash type of smell. It is the smell of violence and passion as the seasons fight for control over the land. The Autumn season sneaks in slowly, waiting patiently until October to mount its assault.
As I inhale the new air, my head gets light, a smile cracks, and memories from long ago flood into my head. A memory of a time when it was easier to smile, and easier to cry. Maybe that is what October is, emotions of a land trying desperately to hold on to a season, knowing that every year it will lose.
Try and see October as I see October. A fresh renewal amongst a dying land.