It felt like fall today. I know there’s not much difference between the end of August and beginning of September. Only I could feel it in the surprising chill of the morning; I could feel it in the way the light slanted more than the day before; I could feel it in the familiar melancholy that accompanies decay. The good graces let me be born in September and it is by far my favorite month. Not only because of my birthday, but because growing up there was a calm in the month. There was a feeling that change was around the corner but for now we could still have moments of august beauty — like how the sun does not set nor rise too early, and how the leaves rustle as music in an ever growing, cooling breeze.