Persephone Has Descended

According to Greek mythology, the goddess Demeter loses her daughter to the underworld for six months of the year. All because of six tiny pomegranate seeds Persephone took from Hades when he abducted her to his subterranean kingdom. Demeter, goddess of the harvest, curls up with unbearable heartache and the earth itself shrivels around her. Leaves turn brown and fall from trees. Air looses it warmth and brings forth gray skies and frost. The way I figure, Persephone either makes her decent on the first day of October and stays below until April, or her departure and return are marked by the autumnal and spring equinoxes. Personally, I embrace the equinox to equinox notion; the other way around is too mathy-mathy. Either way, she is gone for the next two seasons.


Persephone (Proserpine) by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

I look forward to the crisp air. What does that mean, anyhow? I describe it as air that is fresh, dry, and odorless, with its edges lined in a cold, barely jagged border. Like a quick slap from the freezer on a scorching summer day.


Autumn Leaves by John Everett Millais

I look forward to woven sweaters in earthen shades, expressions of glowing jack-o-lanterns, and the robust warmth initiated by juicy turkey, creamy mashed potatoes, and seasoned pumpkin pie.

And certainly look forward to NOT seeing girls wear these things, together, every day, thinking it looks good:

(Real or fake, I really don't care. I think they are ugly either way.)

Who am I kidding? The girls will switch flip-flops for Ugg boots and t-shirts for hooded sweatshirts for thier mad dash to class . . . or the bar.