A Sense of Fall
How would you describe what a breath of late October air feels and smells like where you live?
A single sentence: that is your task. Write a single sentence that says something about how you experience the smells of autumn.
More is fine, but start with a single sentence. You can do it.
Stop and consider your olfactory memories of fall and the feelings they convey for you. (Ask for contributions from your kids, and please pass the challenge along to others by sharing the link to this post!)
Consider sharing–in comments, including links to your blog post if you put it up for us. Might be fun, should enough folks accept this challenge, to merge all of the sentences together into one collaborative SENSE of Fall. Here’s mine:
Fall smells of wood smoke and fading grasses, of dead leaves that drape the yard in rust and gold, of tomatoes rotting on coiled black vines killed by first frost.
Fall smells of burning oak in the dark morning, the musk of coffee, heat and cold savored for a quiet moment on the front porch in chill air.
The sun slides up through baring branches, each turn rising farther south over the east ridge.
A shaft of light, and warm aromas lift like seasoned spirits; we breathe them in and know our days are numbered.
A day of drizzle and our woods steep to tea–a hundred wet leaves still bright decay along the path beside the meadow, mingle their fragrant deaths in a medley of summer passing.
Fall smells a little like winter.