The first cool front

Sometime between the middle and the end of October, the weather here changes its mind. You wake up and the air coming through the screen has an edge on it. Not cold. Just not wet. The humidity packs up overnight and leaves a clean, dry morning that feels like somebody lifted a lid.

Everybody notices. The woman at the coffee window says it first, "Did you feel that?" and then it's the only conversation on the island. People take their dogs out and stay out. Folks who haven't opened a window since May open every one in the house.

It's a funny thing to love a temperature. We're not talking about sweater weather by northern standards. Low seventies and a breeze off the Gulf is still flip-flops. But after five months of air that you wear like a damp towel, seventy-two with no humidity feels like a gift.

My favorite part is the light. It gets lower and a little gold earlier in the afternoon, and the water goes from milky to clear. Sunsets stop feeling like something you have to apologize for being outside in.

If the front hasn't come through where you are yet, it's coming. Keep the windows ready.