Peeking into Fall

 

This was a week of firsts and lasts. Midweek we waved goodbye to the last official day of summer and experienced the first days of fall. At the area high school, golf season was ending along with cross country. Apple orchards are open, and coffee shops and grocery stores are hawking pumpkin spice in every conceivable product except laundry detergent, which is the only pumpkin spice product I would consider buying. Because the countryside about me is still digesting the six inches of rain that fell on it during the previous week, it remains in summer mode for the most part.   

The photo I selected this week was taken this afternoon while enjoying a Friday fish fry at the local pub. The vines clinging to the old fence surrounding the outside beer cooler had noticed that fall was in the air, and they responded by bringing out their fall colors. The deep maroon colors and wrinkled textures were wearing the light well and spoke of the larger fall displays to come.

I feel compelled to reluctantly make a confession. As I grow older, I have come to say that I hate winter. That's not completely true because as each  season closes, I grieve their passing while simultaneously opening my heart to the special joys and rhythms of the next season—even though more of my winter's joys come by looking outdoors while enjoying the comfort of a soft flannel shirt and the taste of rich, dark hot chocolate.