The old nursery rhyme repeats over and over in my head as I watch the late summer showers drench the yard. Long dried up grass begins to turn green again and puddles appear in the street. This is my favorite time of year.
School begins again and I’ve do my best to prepare the children—who aren’t really children anymore—for the coming year. I love the smell of newly opened, college-ruled paper. Even more, I love fresh pee chees, new clothes, the getting ready to learn new things.
Across the street there used to be three enormous maple trees. They were dramatic and lovely especially in September. Wind would blow great dinner plate sized orange and read leaves across our path. It was great fun! When the children were little we used to walk along and pick up the beautifully colored leaves and decorate our house with them. The
trees are gone now, chopped down and taken out by the city. Too big, too large, rotten in the core, they had to go we were told. Everything changes. Sometimes for the good.
Autumn is the season of change, the season of discovery. I feel it in my bones, I’m far more creaky these days, sore around the edges, in tissues and joints. This time of year helps me evaluate the state of my own mortality. If it weren’t for the breath-taking sunsets, the dramatic clouds, the sun breaks amidst showers…the rainbows… I think I should have long packed my bags and headed to the beach.
Where do you dream of going this time of year?