The Seasons Turn

It’s not winter yet, but the handwriting is on the wall. Today is chilly – actually closer to raw. We’d been in the 70s and 80s. That’s gone.

The trees are very pretty. The leaves have turned the golden colors of autumn. Unfortunately, that’s the most obvious outward sign they’ve entered the death cycle!

When photographers capture the splendor that is autumn in New England, they always tilt their cameras up. Only the locals see what’s fallen down.

Our back deck, driveway and lawn are littered with dead leaves. That show has just begun. Withing a few weeks it will be tough to see any lawn through the leaf litter. My Saturday morning sleep will be interrupted by the whine of neighbors with leaf blowers.

I got an email today from someone I know in Singapore. She said she missed fall. Easy to say when you’re halfway around the world, living close to the equator in a place that’s uniformly hot and sweaty year round.

Maybe she doesn’t remember the joy of deciding whether you really want to get out of bed to turn the heat on, or rain that cuts directly to your core, chilling you instantly.

OK, so I’m not a romantic.

Before long the snow will be flying. In years past, it’s already snowed by October 25th. Maybe that’s what has me down about the fall. I’ve seen this movie before. I know what comes next.

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