I usually have nothing but complaints about the weather, but the last couple of days have been absolutely glorious. (complete sidenote, but whenever I hear/say the word "glorious" I always think of Old School, and Will Ferrell saying, "I saw Blue, and he was glooooorious," end sidenote.) A while ago, I wrote about the first really fall day of the year. It was windy, and gloomy, and it felt like it could rain at any moment.
Today is an absolutely beautiful autumn day. I don't know why, but it feels right to call the gloomy days, fall days, and the bright, gorgeous ones, autumn days. Just go with it.
I woke up this morning curled up with my comforter. A cool wind was moving the curtains above me. I jumped out of bed and shivered because, as usual, I'd torn my socks and pants off in my sleep. I extracted them from the sheet crumpled at the end of my bed and got dressed. The too-long sleeves of my shirt hung protectively over my hands.
I walk through the house, squinting in the sunlight streaming through the windows, and try not to fall over the dog who is hungering for attention. I make coffee, take a cup outside, and sit on the back porch with a book. I put the book aside for now, I'm still half in bed and not coherent enough to read. I stand up with my coffee and look at the sky. It's so bright and blue I have to look away, to the trees with the changing leaves, like firecrackers exploding slowly, gently.
The wind blows softly today, lifting my hair and waving sleep away. I can see birds trying to build nests in the porch cover. I want to let them make their temporary homes here, but I don't want my parents to tear the nests down later, so I tap the edge of the porch cover and the birds fly away, a flutter of wings.
One of the birds rests on a set of blinds, rolled up above the porch, lifts its tailfeather and gracefully shits on the table beside my book.
I start to giggle, and with a ladylike snort the moment is broken.