I took the picture around 12:30. I knew I needed to walk up the hill and stand where the wind would push hard. It sounded like several hundred pieces of paper being rubbed together by a mob of angry teachers.    

When the drops started at 12:47, the change in the smell was dramatic. You can probably imagine the smell from the picture. I felt truly young for a moment. In part because I was alone up there. 

I zigzagged down the hill a bit and stood under the open spot in the canopy I discovered a couple of months ago. The wind found me again as I became a little soaked. 

The moment was fall in a way that can be experienced but rarely described.