The fever broke. Temperatures are below 80 and the difference is nearly palatable. Like a great exhale of summer endurance; not realizing just how bad it was until these hints of fall visit the screens of my windows. I don’t even care that the sun is napping; these cloudy skies soften the busyness of the city – her noises and demands.
With near pavlovian response, I want to wallow in autumn with fond memories of making chili, smelling cinnamon, watching football, and cozy-in for the winter. But, I get a bit ahead of myself – it’s just under 80, not near winter, but the fever has broke.