Seems like the first part of September I do everything possible to keep summer going. Hunt the farm stands for blackberries and corn. Leave a bathing suit and towel in the car for an afternoon swim in the nearby lake. Stay up too late trying to spot a firefly. You know, just unable to let summer go… and then the change begins… the shift from a green green world to kaleidoscope bursts of red, yellow and orange, popping from lingering sunflowers to the maple-trees’ top.
Autumn. Back to school, back to work, back to cooler nights and darker dawns. By mid-September oatmeal starts my day and soup ends it. After work I race to catch whatever slanting light fills my forest runs. I watch the evening news only long enough to catch the weather report and plot my outdoor escapes accordingly. Yet while I take one step forward into accepting the shortening days and cooler nights, the other is still stuck in yesterday’s lazy luxury of hot summer sunsets.
Then the cold snap. That one night the temperature dips dangerously into the thirties and you realize a seasonal shift is around the corner and soon all that glorious bright sunny light will be doled out in small priceless increments. Just like that you lift your eyes to the hilltops turning to fire and you bite into a crisp apple and sit on your back porch and know you can’t stop the wheel of time. Yeah, change is coming, with or without your permission.
Hard to stay the same amidst all this change. Just as hard as it is to pack up the swim suit and towel until summer comes for her friendly visit once again… perhaps easier to do when you see the joy of Autumn all around…