Today, I got tired of summer and started itching for fall.
This happens to me a couple of times a year, a sudden and intense longing for a change of season--usually at the end of winter or summer. Of course, it probably doesn't happen "all of a sudden." When I look back, I see the signs. Like this time, there was the shopping for school supplies (school starts here on Sept. 2) and the nights that are cooling off (enough so that I can keep open the windows after the sun goes down and trap the cool air in the morning that lasts at least until noon). Yeah, that cool air may be a false and freaky event, but the coming of the new school year sure is a given. And I'm oh-so-more than ready.
Whether it's at the cusp of spring or the edge of fall, I get irritable, edgy and long to scoop and clean out every closet, nook and cranny. I want to throw open the windows to let the fresh breezes sweep out the furnace heated air or the air conditioned cold. I want to sing along with Pavaratti (my favorite open-window music of choice) at the top of my lungs. I want the sun to shine, the wind to blow and the trees to change. I want to feel the warm sunshine on my old and comfortable blue jeans.
Funny thing is, I probably enjoy anticipating the change as much as the change itself. It's a wonderful part of life, this intense and eager search for the tiny signs of change, to watch the world gradually transform before my eyes. I guess it reminds me that life is dynamic, that God is moving, that I am changing with it.
So, bring on the fall. I'm ready.
(Image: the trees in my neighborhood last fall)