University begins this week - and it is still summer. It is 90 degrees out today.
I always associated the start of school with Fall, not summer. I grew up in a suburb just northwest of Chicago. We started school the week after Labor Day. And we had real falls, not the sad sad excuse for fall that we get here in Baltimore. Even though I have lived in Baltimore for 14 years, my body is wired for school to start coincident with a real fall!
Back where I lived we had forests, filled with maples, oaks, elms, birch, aspen, a riotous palette for fall days. Neighborhoods were bedecked with old growth trees, creating living leafy arches rising over our streets - a dome of constant motion and change. In the fall,the leaves crunched underfoot. They smelled dusty and smoky, and orange. A sensual experience that surrounded everything for those brief weeks of change.
Now, I have to go search for some crispy colorful leaves - they do not abound. And I have to crunch them in my hands to release whatever bit of fragrance they might contain. Somehow, it is just such a pallid impersonation of such a spectacular season.
Or maybe I am just garnishing my memories with those "not like the good old days" sentiments. Who knows! But it sure is fun to reminisce.
