I parked in front of my house after work this afternoon and opened the car door.
A brisk breeze blew the brown leaves down the road and a scent entered my nose.
I can't quite place what caused it and I'm
sorry to say I can't describe it,
but the scent immediately awakened in me the realization that fall had arrived.
No one else was home yet, so I went in, put
down my things, made myself a cup of tea (earl grey, hot),
and came back out to record this
video of fall.
There's nothing particularly special about
this day or this scene,
but there is something special about the way I perceived it.
If you're careful to be aware for these moments, life becomes more magical.
I recently cited the idea from Jim Butcher's Dresden Files series
that magic is knowing more than the other guy.
In a way, that holds true of these special
insignificant moments.
Again, these are just brown leaves, a cool
breeze, the Earth's tilt towards the sun,
and that implacable scent on the air, but
in that moment as I stepped out of the car this afternoon,
it was magical, not because
of me or any of the elements, but for a reason I cannot place.
Someone more prepared could probably replicate
this feeling for me
and I would call that person a magician of sorts.
But right now, nature has the upper hand on
my perception, and I am awed.
