The sun is spicy on our skin and we are still harvesting lots of peppers. The kids are still having afternoon swims in Grandpa's pool and it's still a little too miserable to take walks in the afternoons, so we've been mostly staying indoors, growing weary of the summer heat and ready for the cool blow of an autumn wind on our faces.
Then this morning, I felt it. Breezy with a chill on the front porch, lifting the tiny hairs on my skin. It felt like fall, smelled like cool, packed earth and firewood (probably someone just burning trash). Such a kind gift on this first of September.
I never cared much for fall when I was growing up in Texas. It was an in-between time, still suffocatingly hot and usually brown and crisp, only marked by the start of school and leaves that started falling with no fanfare, brown and brittle. The cool weather didn't come until the later months, and by that time I was ready for Christmas. Now that I am witness to what a magical time of year this is in colder climates... I am captivated.
I don't have to explain to you the joy that comes with the changing of leaves and turning of the weather, lugging out the boxes of sweaters from the attic and the feeling of zipping up boots over thick woolen socks. I know this is the over-played trope of the characters we play on social media. But it's a special kind of magic that can take hold of the hearts of so many adults - when we are all so distracted by consumption, overstimulation, quick entertainment, the never-ending barrage of lights and noise from our many devices - if only for a moment, to the simplicity of the changing of leaves. There's no wonder like a wonder of nature. It's what we were made for.
