A Fading Light

For the first time in many weeks I got out of bed in the middle of the night to close the windows in my room.

I love the idea that the temperature during the evening dips low enough that just opening windows and a ceiling fan humming above can provide all the sleeping comfort I could possibly want. Coming from NYC Summers where the humidity is typically so high that you feel like you're walking through thick soup, I am grateful that the weather here is what it is. If there is a place that physically suits me, it is this place. Even though it is still August and by the calendar there are approximately 3 weeks of Summer left, there is no doubt that Autumn is knocking on the door demanding to be let in.

As a child this time of year never bothered me. I mean, yeah, I hated to see the summer the end, but I anticipated the beginning of a new school year (I was a total geek), being with all my friends and most importantly knowing that my birthday was a mere few weeks away. Nothing compared to having a brand new 3 ring binder (some kind of blue fabric if I recall) and elastic strap untouched by a pen or pencil. The pristine appearance of either didn't make it 2 weeks. This was the 70s and backpacks for books were unheard of.

On mornings like this my mind wanders to those days and sometimes I wish I could feel the same anticipation I did back then. Today though there is a sense of melancholy. It isn't so much the coolness in the air that is creating the feeling but the stillness around me. There are certain sounds that are associated with the height of summer here. Today there are none. I don't hear a small motorized boat looking for a place to stop so its occupant can fish. The breeze doesn't carry the distant squeals and giggles of children jumping into a cool lake. Gone are the sounds of kayak paddles sweeping the water as they float by. Even the birds have retreated until later in the day.


The shorter days seem to welcome cooler temperatures which come early here and leave much later. There is a definite feel of something ending. Those things that made the summer exciting are finding a place to be saved and protected until next year.


But for now, with the changing of the seasonal guard, I will look for the grandness of Fall as it approaches, a time when the trees burst into an explosion of color just before they go dormant awaiting the symphony of whites that will blanket them until next Spring.


As I look for guidance from the changing seasons they remind me that endings and beginnings are absolutely necessary in order to make life stronger.