I'm going to share with you a secret. I live for fall. I love crisp days and cool nights. I never complain about the loss of light or shorter days, yet it's just about this time every year when my brief love affair with summer is scandalously rekindled. Fall is my first love...my true siren, but summer is a temptress impossible to resist. I'm shamelessly attracted by the same things as everyone else. My list of summer lures is long and growing longer, but the one thing that stands out amongst all the goodness is simply time. It is a season defined by lingering, dillydallying and meandering. There are abundant reasons to pause, play and put off. The rules of time relax during these months and come June 20th it seems more important to catch fireflies than cook dinner, more pressing to read another chapter (or 4) than clean the house, and more worthwhile to visit longer than turn in for the night to catch up on sleep.
This morning the sun crept through the crack in my blind and beamed straight into my eyes. It blazed a bright trail clear across my face. Instead of being annoyed by the illuminating assault, I was amused. I chose to be delighted because it was the start of a new day, and while after today each ensuing day will be a sliver shorter, I'm still here to live it.
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