Writing Life at the Crossroads

On reevaluating things from time to time

The fairs are over. Fall has arrived. The nights are chilly and strong gusts of wind bring down a shower of leaves that have only just begun to change. The grass grows slower. There is, in the air and the light, a kind of resignation, an exhale. Shadows creep in around the edges.

This time of year always feels like a crossroads to me, when we return fro…