This is a strange time of year – the cusp of autumn. Change is palpable; it is in the air. It is exhilarating for some and stress-producing for others.
Autumn is not an easy season for me. As the days begin to shorten, I find my mood darkening with the atmosphere. As many as there are like me, there are others who anticipate winter’s chill and bluster as a time of magic and wonder. (I do not understand how this can be, but I have witnessed it in otherwise perfectly sane friends.)
Knowing that I do not like “football weather,” pumpkin chai latte, or the loss of Daylight Saving Time, but that I am powerless to stop their onslaught, it’s time to find a way to get out of this funk.
Change is part of life – it’s really a definition of life – so, in my sixtieth transition from summer to fall,
I am going to embrace the change of season.
I am going to revel in the transient beauty of painfully brilliant blue skies and a sun that seems to be glancing sideways at Earth, casting gold streaks across everything in its path.
I am going to delight in the scratchiness of a wooly sweater.
I am . . .
Oh, who am I kidding, I am going to sulk until April!