For the first time in three months, I woke up with a little chill in the air. It was 59 degrees when I walked into the gym this morning—a typical North Florida weather in the fall. The summer morning haze was nowhere in sight. It was nice, and all I wanted to do was to head for the club house and have breakfast right there, contemplating the LIME GREEN golf course and even play a little bit before the sun rose over the towering pines of the forest. By the time I was done exercising, few rays of the sun had already pierced through the colonial windows of the cottage.
I stepped into the pathway leading up to the parking lot, where the song of the nightingale was a vivid reminder that daylight had not been totally broken through. It was still grayish dark. I strolled deliriously toward my car—just when a pack of deer darted by. The buck walked ahead of the pack, the does (the female) saunters from the back, effectively sheltering her 3 cutie fawns, softly grunting in the middle. My foot-stepping quickly disturbed them, and they took a nosedive toward a nearby ravine that edged the golf course. There, they began their morning grazing. I got in the car and slowly drove off in the midst of birds’ chirping all the way home. Fall has indeed arrived. From greenish to yellowish to reddish, the maples and the crape myrtles leaves will soon follow the order of nature before they all wither and ultimately die.