Thursday, August 28, 2008

Dry Leaves

Strange weather in columbus, ohio. After weeks of nothing, the rain decided to open up and really let loose. It spits and it showers, and fog hangs in the air, making everything seem dank like I how I always imagine London to be. We moved recently and my trek into work at the great and wonderful state university of ohio now includes a drive through the city on one of columbus’ major highway instead of around the side like I used to. It’s nice on mornings like this. Clouds hang around the tops of the buildings, obscuring the tops, giving them room to whisper at each other in the rain, telling stories about the people who scurry about below, oblivious to everything going on above them.

Time’s moving fast again. Last I checked it was early spring and summer was just around the corner. Now it’s almost fall. The recent hot dryness has turned the edges of green tree leaves brown, forcing them inward in a manner that reminds you of fall. It isn’t fall; not yet. Jen tells me it’s just the lack of water, but it feels like fall; it smells like fall. And even if it isn’t quite the real thing yet, the crispness of everything might very well be the beginning, that reminder that the wild beauty of nature’s death dance is not to far off.

Time is moving fast again. Summer passed me bye much faster than it usually does. A lot has happened these past few months to distract me and, maybe I’ll go into that here sometime soon. Maybe I won’t. Right now I’ll just sit on the deck and watch the leaves change.

Whether it’s a lack of water or the real thing doesn’t matter. It’s still beautiful.

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