Same familiar autumn air I would draw in as a young girl. I remember her wild way with this season as I smell fall’s cologne. That girl is not gone from me. The girl in love with fall. She is with me still. I’ve just cultivated her into the girl I am now. And she’ll no doubt stay as I grow some more.
The crisp aftertaste lingers. Winter is not far behind. Me and my girl have some pruning to do.