wet leaves

i took trotter out for his morning constitutional today, an hour before my alarm was to go off. i'm not sure why i got up early, but i did, and it was one of those times when you know there's no way you'll be going back to sleep. so i got up, threw on my coat, and took trotsky out to poop.

when i got outside, it felt as though the temperature had risen a bit overnight. it had rained all day and part of the night, and, being october, leaves carpeted the grass.

as i was waiting on trots to "good potty, boy, good potty!' ... i wondered what time my first class was.

i'm, what, 33 years old now? not that i'm ancient -- not by any stretch -- but i'm not in my 20s anymore. i wonder how long it will be until i stop defining myself by that decade. my first thought, as i took a deep breath of the crisp october morning air, was of college -- the incredibly painful joy i had while walking across the quad to class, or from class, or to the dining hall, etc.

cold, wet october days define college for me. it's been 11 years since i've been in an organized collegiate classroom, and yet every september i get excited, looking forward to ... what, exactly? it used to be the magical cycle -- summer, then school, then christmas break, then a whole bunch of stuff thrown together until summer. and for me, in many ways, it's still like that.

one of my favorite memories from those years: i'd traveled home for some reason on friday night -- i think this was my senior year -- and drove back to school early saturday morning. in the car i found the ohio state-penn state football game, and got back to my room by halftime.

it was late afternoon, late october, and the rain and gloom caused that odd dusk-at-4-p.m. atmosphere. i curled up on the couch with the blanket my grandma had given me before i started school four years earlier, made a big cup of coffee and watched the game. i don't remember who won -- i remember the cocoon i made on the couch, the way the heating pipes in the basement of curtis east gave my room a warm smell, and the total comfort i took in knowing that i couldn't do this in september (too hot outside) or november (no OSU games) or january (you don't curl up to watch the playoffs).

the only problem is that, in my current geographical location, "cold, wet october days" are a harbinger of nasty, brutish winters that last longer than any season has a right to last. i temper my inner excitement with the knowledge that these special october days are limited in number, and lead to bitter months ahead.