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In which my migratory instincts awaken to the sound of crickets

One of several waterfalls along US 60, Fayette County, WV Fall is just around the corner. The lonely sound of crickets fills the air, mornings and evenings are cool and pleasant. The first round of dying leaves has started its perennial descent to the earth — nothing colorful yet, but those days are coming soon.

I used to hate the coming of Fall. As I've gotten older, I've grown pretty fond of it. I'm not sure why that changed, exactly, but I'll theorize it has something to do with not being in school any longer. I started appreciating Fall when I was at Tech. Numerous reasons for this, being out from under the oppressive parental thumb perhaps being the biggest one.

I'm on the other side of that equation now so I sometimes wonder if I am seen as the oppressor. I try not to be; let me just say that for the record, and for the sake of anyone who finds these words in some future digital slag heap. I have tried, I am trying.

Anyway... this is one of the two seasons when transition becomes blatantly apparent outside (Spring, of course, being the other). I often feel like exploring in Fall and this year is no exception — some ancient migratory instinct tickling at my brain stem: move. The weather will turn soon. I've been at the bicycle a bit on evenings when the weather and schedule allow, but six or seven miles around the neighborhood merely whets my appetite. No, this runs at a different level.

As far removed as we pretend to be from the animal kingdom, it can all come rushing forward with sunlight tilted just so, the smell of leaves, fading heat, and cricket song.

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