Well, it's fall again. Practically winter, really.
July has often said that we haven't had a proper fall in quite a while. That is to say, she thinks it goes far too fast from summer hot and humid to F'ing cold, not leaving enough time to really appreciate the cool, crisp air, the autumnal colors. Too true, but it seems like all the seasons are just blowing by, even when I try to slow down and savour the moment when I can.
But it still has been beautiful out.
I witnessed snowfall for the first time this season on Wednesday; light flurries as I got into my car to head in to work, becoming an intermittent drizzle by the time I reached the office. There was no precipitation when I headed out although the ground was still wet and the clouds were still threatening.
That evening, we played pick-up in Lexington under the lights. By the time I reached the field, a steady drizzle had started. I was relieved to see several discs flying as I was worried that the inclement weather would keep people away. The outside temperature displayed in the car read 41F.
There's something about fall disc under the lights; I can't really explain it. There is a certain clarity, a crispness in everything you see. It feels like the cold air somehow locks everything into focus.
And the lights have their own magic. They highlight as much as they illuminate. I've caught myself staring at the trees on the perimeter of the field, strangely visible in the night, orange and yellow, the lights also outlining individual leaves like a halo, with blackness beyond.
This night, the trees are lit, as is the rain, falling so lightly it's not felt, only seen. And a beautiful sight it is. We play. It's still cold. I'm wearing at least 3 shirts and a fleece and my gloved fingers are still a little numb. But it feels good to be running and playing. Moving.
Being.
Outside.
Under the lights.
