It’s almost November, but only recently has it really begun to feel like autumn. Monday, I slept too late and missed the bus and had to drive to school. On the way out the door I saw that I had received the new Ticonderoga album in the mail. So I put that in my CD player and drove down University Ave under a low gray sky, the car’s interior gradually taking on the singular character that only an automobile’s heating system can create. I parked in the commuter lot and hurried to workshop.

The city was clearing the leaves off my street yesterday, so I had to get up at 7 a.m. to move my car. It was still dark. I hopped down my house’s front steps and shuffled through the leaves on the front lawn. I pulled the car around the corner and parked it. A school bus trundled across the street behind me. It almost made me wish I had a reason to get up that early every day, like I used to in high school for swim practice.