Here in the Kittatinny Mountains of New Jersey, it is the most perfect kind of day. If there were a storybook called Early September, this day would be the cover.

The sunshine is hot, but the soft, gentle breeze is cool. The sun is high enough to shine an almost blinding light on the ripples of the lake, but low enough to cast longish shadows across the lawn. The leaves are still mostly vibrant and alive, but occasionally, one loses its grasp on its branch, floats through the air, and lands softly on the lush green grass.

I’m sitting in a rocking chair, watching as summer lolls and lingers. Watching as autumn begins to brew. I have no more work today, and no urgent chores. Right now, all I have to do is sit here, rocking, watching.

Rocking and watching.

Clearing my mind of all that happened yesterday. Of all that happened the day before. And the day before. And the day before. Of all that has been happening. Of all that continues to happen, and all that will continue to continue to continue to happen.

It will happen, whether I sit here watching the season unfold or not. It will happen whether it is a perfect day or not. Whether I stress about it, scream and shout about, or not. Whether I cry about it or not.

So right now, I am choosing to rock. And to watch. I’m choosing to take some time, to clear my mind, and to say- right now, in this very moment, it’s a glorious fuckin day.