And it is upon us

And I stand on the back step of my house in my new fleece-lined robe. Looking out into the dark of my back yard. My long neglected back yard. Unloved this summer, but now the rains are back. It's wet, the trees dripping, the slap slap slap of drops telling the leaves to give up their hold.

My barbecue is covered and in the winter place of barbecues. Newly raked of its first fall dropping, the yard, in the dark, looks better than it has in months.

I watch an airplane over the sound on the Harbor Visual cruising north, then moving east, lights piercing the moist thick air; then it disappears, and I can just hear as it makes its way over the sights of Seattle in a wet fall approach to SeaTac.

I miss summer already. It feels like a love that didn't work out. I think of it, and I want it back, and I know it's moved on to someone else. It will be a long time 'til it comes to me again. Bitch. But I'll beg her to come back.