Fall came to the mountains this morning, with cold rain and with mist moving over the valleys the way a lover moves on the beloved.
Not meteorological Fall, nor Civil Fall, nor our liturgical Fall, but the land’s Fall, the Fall of these mountains, this place.
Driving back early from nearly a week in the city, I could feel something ancient and strong coming back to life, waking itself back up, reveling in the cool, fresh air. Even after the rain, the skies stayed a soft grey and the breeze stayed refreshing and vital, especially after a week of really intense heat and humidity.
There may well be a few more hot days here and there, but today was the day the when Wheel turned, at least up here in the Virginia Blue Ridge — and I am ready for it.
May it be so for you.
Picture found here.
(Mrs. Whatsit will be back next week.)