I love fall. This is my time. Colorful leaves, hayrides, sweatshirts, pumpkin everything. But today, as the rain drowns the the beginning of the season, of my time, I sit in my Philadelphia office, above the rumbling of the subway cars, with more than a little anxiety. Instead of thinking about the myriad ways I could enjoy the upcoming sunshiney weekend, my mind is consumed with the news of an “imminent” terrorist attack on subway systems in the US. Now, every rumble below me seems louder than it used to be, every bang or screech suspicious. I could spend the rest of my fall days worrying. I could spend this season in a downward spiral of fear. But then they win, right? So I vow, instead, to enjoy my hot pumpkin spice latte (insert white-girl stereotype here) and make plans to soak in the sun and let my hair blow in the breeze. I will pray, in my way, for the safety of this country and the innocents everywhere who want no part of this, who should have no part in this. And, until peace wraps its warm arms around this earth, I will play in piles of red and orange leaves and enjoy the chill of the fall.
