the sun pushed through the white filter that dimmed its shine for so many days. the light is bright and pure.
the cicadas have hushed their late afternoon screeching to a soft whisper. sprinklers still whir and sputter, their song punctuated by the lumbering sound of the school bus letting off after-school program students.
a few leaves have turned and fallen. I think I smell smoke from a distant fireplace (most likely an olfactory hallucination, since it is still august).
oh autumn, how I love you. you are my favorite. thank you for this momentary preview.