Our leaves don’t really do much in the way of changing here. So far I’ve seen no garnets or golds other than those on the clothes adorning the fanatical fans of Florida State football. The morning temps are much cooler, though, than they were just two weeks ago, and the afternoons are gloriously sunny and warm. If I had a friend, we’d sit out on the back porch and drink our coffee as we watched the light play across the lake. Instead, I watch Criminal Minds and CSI:Miami reruns and do laundry.
But I imagine adopting a certain languor while reclining in the early November sun, an SPF 50 or above on any exposed body part. Even in my imagination I must be skin conscious. My non-existent friend offers to fetch us a drink refill, but no, I insist on getting it. We’ve exchanged our coffee for tea now. Sweetened for her, unsweetened for me. I hang up some clothes while I’m inside the house and start another load.
When I return, Adam Levine is stretched out on the chaise longue. He tells me my other friend had to leave to do laundry of her own. I’m momentarily uncertain of my next step, but Adam accepts the tea and we continue talking as if nothing has changed. Adam begins singing a song he’s composed just for me. I might be in love. With Tallahassee.
Peace, People.
Praying for Eyebrowz 