September 2, 2010
Why is it that a change in seasons can make things all shiny and new again? I felt Fall on our patio furniture this evening, its cool breath clinging to the seat of my chair, and I was instantly changed by it. It was as though the air had rewired my brain, filling its files with all things “autumn.” Suddenly, I can’t wait to wear jeans again. And Mark is fawning over thoughts of once again donning his fleece man vest.
Just like that, there are fires to stoke and soups to simmer, blankets to unfold and pumpkins to carve.
This sloughing off of heat and humidity, this need to turn our backs on sweat and cicadas, makes the seasonal transition to fall perhaps the most magical one of all. And we are rewarded with refreshing, indescribable beauty. Flocks of grackles start gathering on the treetops, discussing their routes to winter homes in far-off places. Black swallowtails languish over the asters that are just now gearing up for their own big show. Cool breezes sneak into our bedrooms, shuffling the blinds as they weave their way to our grateful bodies.
It’s odd that this is such a beautiful time of year, given that so much death is just around the corner. Everything seems to be humming just a little louder, huddling a little closer, gathering up just a little more for the future. And as the chlorophyll starts to leach from our sunset maple’s leaves, even that death will be beautiful, like its namesake.
It is time for our kind to make nests again. And so, I forage for warm things—both physical and emotion—to build up around me. To keep my brood safe and close again.
Beautiful, poetic and emotional description of this time of the year. I love it.
ReplyDelete