After paying $15.00 to the parking attendant for my forty-five minute useless visit to the unslapped doctor, I pulled out into the swirling drama of the day's weather. Driving through downtown on K Street, there were little leaf tornadoes that whipped up spontaneously all around my car. A gust would move my Explorer a little to the right then left, and I thrilled at being on an unexpected carny ride.
Large sweeps of leaves covered the otherwise blue sky only to settle for a moment of rest before they took flight again. Wings without birds, these last vestiges of summer are kicking up their heels and taking to the skies with a mind of their own. It was kooky watching them, and I wanted to find myself the biggest pile of leaves and belly flop into them, taking in their musky earth smell.
But I didn’t. I drove straight to the office and wished the entire way I had a CD of Tubular Bells.
