This time of year, I'm distracted by the slap, dash, crack of acorns zipping through the trees and the rat-a-tat-tat of still more dropping on the neighbor's metal roof. They land with a startling pop, rattle, and roll.
But the acorns are just one sign that change is in the air.
The apples down the street are turning red, the grapes two blocks over are turning deep blue (they've been green all summer), and the leaves on the maple tree three blocks up are starting to change.
It seems early, but September is just two days away.
Exploring the art and writing of short story memoir