I checked my email and learned from the Writers Almanac that the autumnal equinox occurs today at 10:49 a.m.  — only to glance at my computer clock and see … 10:49 a.m.

We are perfectly poised now between sunlight and shadow, between darkness and light, our days and nights equal halves of the same whole, like the beginning and end of a beloved book, each part integral to what we love, ultimately, for its completeness.

I write outside, a brisk wind blowing. As I type, a single leaf floats down and lands on my keyboard.