Autumn Is Coming

It finally rained after threatening for days to do so. I stood beneath the storm clouds like I did when I was a child, “chilling” to heaven-sent refreshments. I gave kids on buses coming from school something to ponder, I’m sure, as I caught raindrops on my tongue and smelled a familiar change in the air.

Like all seasons, autumn has its distinct aroma. Grass smells sweeter, or maybe it’s the wildflowers I smell. Or maybe it’s a combination of that and the fruits and vegetables ripening around me. Whatever it is, it’s the exterior over a sweet and sour back-to-school anxiousness of schools in Corry back in session after a three-month hiatus; over beautiful high spectrum colors of flora sporting the blush of their third quarter dress; over tailgate giddiness as football jerseys become popular human wear again. It’s the smell mingling with cotton candy, candied apples and popcorn at the fairs; hotdogs and soda at baseball and football games; steaks and burgers at Labor Day picnics.

Autumn smells sweet to many. But autumn is also the smell mingling among the billion allergens running rampant for Mother Nature’s seasonal linebackers and their knock-down blows to noses and eyes of young and old.

Yes, the coming of autumn is a bitter sweetness for me amidst crying, sneezing and weeping, peering out at life from eyes swollen shut, gasping for oxygen because my body’s defenses glued shut my sinuses, and wishing I could run naked when it rains because I want to believe that it may be a yesteryear elixir that OTC pharmaceutical serums are not to the itching hives that have erupted on my skin.

Meanwhile, I’m blinded by the weakest light. That is why I have changed my blog site to a darker setting. I read and write less, too, and find watching television almost impossible. So, like the crazy person I am, I go outdoors on stormy days to catch raindrops on my tongue, my eyes, my face and body, and “chill” to the rain’s temporary but deliciously sweet release to the coming of autumn, all the while calling for an early winter to blanket this pox that plagues me to my very soul.