Two senses of Fall — Dos sentidos del otoño

Today felt like Fall in México, D.F.  I know that might seem like a strange thing to say, given that we’re south of the Tropic of Cancer, but it did.

The morning was noticeably warm, with temperatures in the low 70s (21°C).  Mexico City is at a relatively high altitude (7,349 feet), so the climate is relatively mild throughout the year.  However, standing outside in the still air and bright sunshine, it felt much warmer.  It reminded me of Fall in San Francisco, where, after a summer of cool, moist, grey fog and despite the shortening days, the autumn months bring warming sunshine, brilliant blue skies, and hot, dry weather.  Even here in México, this late in the year, the sun does seem lower in the sky than it did when I first arrived.

As the shadows stretched with the sun dipping in the late afternoon, a slight breeze began to waft through the city.  And with that breeze and the angled rays of the sun, I felt a slight chill… the same chill I would feel every year back in Boston… the same feeling that would remind me that every warm day could be the last before the long winter.  As the breeze flowed through Escandón, caressing the tops of buildings and rustling the papers on the street, the trees, as if sensing my own thoughts of the season, let fall their cascade of leaves onto the sidewalk and pavement.  It had seemed as if, only hours before, their branches had been full and green and lush but that, now, for my subtle longing of the autumnal tones of New England and the Charles River, they might take me there.

Perhaps tomorrow, when I wake, it will be summer again.

 

The breeze flowed through Escandón....

The trees let fall....

 

San Francisco, Boston…. México, D.F.

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