After work today, my girlfriend and I took a walk around a nearby lake. The days are getting shorter and tonight's air is was cool and brisk. Still there was moisture on the path left from last nights heavy rains. The hills of the local ski area and park overlooked the small lake and shown shades of bright yellow, orange and brown. Fall has peaked and the trees and shrubs, once laden heavy with the colorful leaves were showing signs of finally giving out to barren dormancy. Overlooking it all, the peculiarity of a lone ski jump sets an atmosphere of the impending winter.
It's a sight I missed during my years in California where the Steinbeck-ian browns of tinder dry summer grasses would gradually heed to wave upon wave of storm system and reveal a brilliant green that makes Dublin, CA a true sister city of it's European namesake. Storms that are slowed as they beat up against the precipitous rise of the Sierra Nevadas.
The dropping temperature and diminishment of light, along with our bodies telling us it was time seek sustenance, resulted in a pace more hurried than the promised saunter but yielded before feeling too rushed. It enabled conversation and enjoyment of company. while the coolness kept too much perspiration from congregating in my favorite cardigan.
It's these days of high autumn that make Minnesota such a desirable place. After having lived on both American coasts and visited many other places there is not better location to witness the calculus of the seasons. Changes that are measurable and abrupt, but at the same time prolongued enough to enjoy before the plunge of arctic winter or the stagnation of sulty summer air. Indeed, this is the place for a walk with someone you enjoy.
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