Almost Autumn

There is a blustery wind outside, blowing with extra gusto.
Could it be an autumnal wind?

My imagination roams into dream land when we are on the cusp of the possibility.
Is that a coolness in the breeze I feel? I shan't ignore it, for this is the beginning of the best time to live here. The sense of the tropical slowly ebbs away, like a tide going out to sea.

I breathe deep the fresher air. Sitting outside is pleasant for the first time in more than five months. It is a joy to behold, and only the best months are to come. Each day draws us closer.

Nature rarer uses yellow
Than another hue;
Saves she all of that for sunsets.
Prodigal of blue.

- Emily Dickinson