Fall speaks the most to me. It is a season when the weather is mild, nature's transformations are particularly visual and beautiful, and it marks the beginnings of the school year and the fiscal year. A routine for the next year will be set. These are all things I love, but in the last few years I've begun to feel a little sad when the fall sets in. I wasn't sure why or how. I hate the summer, so it's not that the end of summer makes me sad; it is something inherent about fall that gnaws at me. Today, when my office was relatively empty, I noticed how sad the place felt. As I paid closer and closer attention I realized that the sadness came from sounds that were continuous, but that I had not noticed before. These sounds came from outside. They were made by trucks as they traverse the country on our roads. These trucks howl sadly. They sound like souls trapped somewhere yearning to go free. Ironic considering how our cars have become icons for our freedom. The rea
These are the meandering thoughts of a smart and competent woman.