I usually love this time of year here. If you happen to be out and about when the sun goes down or are up just after the birds, there’s that slight nip in the air that has me longing for my hat and scarf and the need for hot chocolate and intermittent use of my windscreen wipers.
It was a really blustery night last night. This morning there are half brown leaves, mixed with the green all over the place and this out-of-nowhere wind has managed to push stuff under cars, into our gutters and doorways, and before it’s done with us, will most likely try to wreak havoc on our roads and pathways. Although it happens all around us, at different times everywhere in the world, it takes us by surprise when it’s our turn. It appears and announces itself, with little advance warning. But it shouts its arrival.
I think the wind tossed around last night almost as much as I did. But it’s sunny right now. This, for me, is a welcome respite, because it always brings the promise that things never stay the same. That things will change again in time.
I love the sun and heat, but I know the landscape moves. It’s a sight for sore eyes. So, as it gets cooler, we’ll root out our scarves and hats, our defenses against the elements, and make our way through this change. Then, just as we’re tired of it and hoping for warmer weather, it’ll peak over the horizon bit by bit and warm us up again.
It’s only the beginning of this season, though, and no doubt it’ll get colder before it moves again. But as we always do, we’ll hold hands going over the icy patches and point out to warn each other about the slippery spots. We’ll pull on our boots and trudge through when it reaches our knees. We’ll wrap ourselves up in every stitch of warm stuff we have between us.
That’s why right now, I’m digging in every drawer I have; to keep even just one step ahead of the weather man.