I'm gonna level with you. I am tired. Really, really tired. Between starting a new job, taking the GRE this past Saturday, and particularly sweet set of growing-pains, I am bone tired.
Waking up this past Sunday with the test behind me, I went for a long walk with only my camera in hand. I wanted to see fall--fall in New York, fall in my small and perfect neighborhood. I wanted to see how the sunlight cuts through the trees and creates a sort of lattice-work against the brick. Wanted to smell that thing that means the in-between of the seasons.
I went in search of fall and then treated myself to brunch. (I sat at the bar reading an Aurelio Zen mystery as I ate--some version of heaven, for sure).
When the time came for me to get onto the train to head into Manhattan, it was only upon sitting that the full weight of exhaustion hit. This is the in-between season of my own life. This is the I-don't-know. And that is both grounding and terrifying. The train is going somewhere, I just don't know where. But I suppose I'd take movement over the alternative, always.
