the smell of september.

As I inhale the smell of harvest, I can tell it is less a rhetorical smell and more a physical pollen entering my nasal passages. It is coupled with air wrapped in a thick moisture, swilling into a potent definition of September. It's a harvest moon, full and partially hidden by layers of fog. Standing in the sky, as if saying, "I am here, you are there, and there is a sea of sweetness between us."

the smell of september.