The air has a scent of change. There is a tinge of coolness that dances on the skin even as the humidity dulls the senses. A crisp dash in every other breath alerts you to its coming. Fall is on its way. The yearly cycle of death and hibernation has begun.

The very edges of the leaves seem a lighter shade. The haze of heat has disappeared and been replaced by the clarity of a more distant sun. Coolness has returned a bounce of life to the Earth. The oppressive Summer heat has dissipated leaving creatures and man refreshed and bouyant to scurry about at the tasks of making ready for Winter.

I love this time of year. Many see it as depressing or dark. But I think it’s a sort of rebirth. It doesn’t have the power of Spring, but there is something very cathartic about that last burst of vigor and energy before the huddled warmth of Winter. It’s like announcing to the world a large “I am here!” that will hopefully be loud enough to echo until Spring’s explosion.

Maybe I’m not far enough out of the academic world to have “back to school” and football memories tied to this season, but I think there is more to it than that. As someone who suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder, fall and winter are supposed to be times when I have to fight depression more than usual. Even so, I like that. I like that challenge to my being. It allows me to stand up and pronounce my viability.

I often find that I am more creative in the fall and winter months. Perhaps it’s the being holed up inside the house, or maybe it’s the clarity of the air and the bracing frehsness of the breeze that make my thoughts come like the water in a Spring thaw, all fast and clear and abundant. I write more, I talk more, I think more, and I do more.

In short, this time of year makes me feel more human, and for that I thank the trees who lose their clothing, the animals that burrow underground, the birds that make amazingly long journeys, and all the other wonders of nature that this season brings.