The equinox has passed. Football season is into its fourth week. The leaves are turning, although not quite as nicely as I’d hoped. The World Series is nearly upon us. We’ve had more than our first frost. None of these are signs of fall, however.
This morning I heard my first flock of Canadian geese. Yeah, I’m sure they’ve been flying for a week or two, but this is the first time I’ve seen them; therefore my fall has arrived.
The classic “V” shape wasn’t there, yet - they’re still forming up for their trip south. I saw maybe three distinct grouping, though, with embryonic “V” groupings.
M & P, I’m sure. It’s just that I’ve only spent two falls back here, where I grew up. When you’re around it all the time you forget how magical the change of seasons is. When I came home it was in early spring to grey skies and dead trees and mud. Within a month the trees were leafed out and the lilacs were in bloom.
Then summer, with its attendant heat and humidity (although, at that time, humidity was a joke, after three years in Hawaii). Time spent at fairs of all sorts - town, craft, art, county, state. Time spent at lakes, fishing or boozing or both.
Then my favorite season arrived. Fall, with all its glorious colors and feelings and smells and…
Look. You did not grow up as I did, on the farm with your grandparents next door. Or if you did, you did not spend countless fall afternoons drinking coffee (maybe with a spot of brandy grampa “accidentally spilled”) or hot chocolate reading a book next to the fireplace your great-grandfather built. Or if you did, the house of your grandparents does not smell or look or sound like the house of my grandparents.
Then spring again. It sneaks up on you, you know. You drive back and forth to work every day, or glance out your window now and again, and you see dead trees. Then a few days later you notice just a little tiny bit of green. And you swear - you SWEAR - that this year you are going to pay attention. And then life happens - instead of seeing just a little bit of more green every day, you see GREEN. And you’re just a little bit sad, because you MEANT to notice the incremental changes, but you couldn’t or wouldn’t or didn’t.
Once when I was married to the Navy and stationed in Hawaii I managed to afford a plane ticket home for Christmas. After a 10-hour flight I was tired, but gazed in wonder at the lace the tree branches presented against the white snow for the 75-mile highway north to home. When you’re slogging through all that cold and snow and muck you have little time to notice the beauty.
When I was stationed in FL and DC and HI I took delight in the lack of seasons, and missed them at the same time. Some of you in the DC DC area will say it has seasons, but it does not have real winter, so it doesn’t count. Some of you live in mild climes and will gush about your moderate weather.
But in my mind, you have not experienced life until you have seen the birth and life and dying and death of the green.
The beginning of the end is here, because of the geese. I’m not worried, though. In a few short months the beginning will start, and I’ll get to see the cycle all over again.
[Edited by Eutychus55 on 10-03-2000 at 05:51 AM]