Mr. Disproportionate Response

People who know me are familiar with my passionate avoidance and disdain of sunlight. What most don’t know, but some have seen, is the sheer excitement that comes with autumn. Today, as I left my train, I stepped out of the tunnel, saw the light spilling down the alley where I catch my shuttle to the office, and stepped fully into it, eager to bask in the light.

The sun was rising over the cascades and was tinted a color of gold that only comes with those mild, breezy mornings that speak of pumpkins and spices and leaves changing color. It warns of cooler nights, gentler and more frequent rains, and tells a tale of snows to come. Memory is stirred and a torpid heart sets to beating again. Two score and ten years’ autumns are recalled, and in that moment as the cool, gilded light embraces me, I am alive.

I’ll suffer through the madness and despair that are my life for the other nine months, just so I can have a morning like today’s once a year.