Early shift this morning (is partly why I'm so wasted) and cold enough that I needed a neck warmer. Then became cotton trousers and tshirt weather.
The three days after the cold blew in Monday afternoon were indescribably other world. I knew they were indescribable even as they happened. I can't remember them here in returned September mug, but I remember their shadows in the past. Blue skies and cool light, shifting leaves and grey velvet clouds: back-to-school in the 50s, going-to-Europe in the 80s, unmarked hours on the bicycle in Tokyo: Waseda-dori where chestnut leaves fell, Nakasendou-dori through small 'downtown' knots of shops and bookstores. Also unpacking seven boxes of manga in my front hallway in 2003, while the bright sun bounced off the white linoleum. A sense of purpose and the promise of new lands, mental or physical or both. Autumn is always so full of promise, and very occasionally it delivers.