I can smell rain, that's right, smell it. It has an acidic fragrance to it. And, when it's part of an impending thunderstorm, the electrical feel of the storm courses through your body. It's reminiscent of Victor Frankenstein animating his monster in the 1930s movie. Only -- I don't feel like a monster. I feel alive, in control, exuberant, on top of my world.
But I digress.
This is supposed to be about Fall. And, in a way it is. That same feeling I get, the rush I get from the thunderstorm. Fall, on the other hand, is a rush with less intensity but spread over a longer period of time, sometimes even a few months. It reminds me of the old joke my brother Joe once told:
The bull and his son were standing atop a hill surveying the cows below.
"Hey, Dad, look at that beautiful Guernsey with the neat pattern of spots down there. Let's run down and make sweet love to her."
The papa bull surveyed the group below and responded,
"Son, let's walk down there and make sweet love to them all."
No, I don't digress. I feel the same as papa bull when I think of Fall. Fall can be multi-orgasmic, not enjoyed in one rushing moment but rather the pleasure is spread out over time.
It starts one day with a chill -- a light chill but something your body hasn't felt for months. Then there’s a chemical reaction along the synapses of the brain. An emotion is triggered that harkens back to Falls of the past. Then the emotion surges forward to the seasonal holidays to come.
I love Fall.
What can I say?