Image © Jar O’Marbles, used with permission.
A few nights ago, I dreamed I was eating a honeycrisp apple. It was perfectly ripe and tasted of early fall, the only time we can get them around here. When I woke, I realized it was nearing seven and the world was still twilight gray.
Ah, I thought, here comes fall.
It’s been a wonderful summer, full of good work and great adventures, but I can suddenly feel autumn’s inexorable pull.
My sons went back to school last week. Maybe it’s an ingrained association rooted in my childhood years, when school began after Labor Day, or maybe it’s the result of a ten-day triple digit heat wave that left me (and my garden) feeling wilted and suddenly ready to bid summer a fond farewell.
Autumn has always been my favorite season. I love everything about it: the new beginnings, the return to routine, the colors, the tastes and smells, the harvest celebrations at the beginning, Halloween and Thanksgiving at the end. Cozy sweaters and crunchy leaves and cinnamon sprinkled on almost everything.
But what I’ve really come to love – and to anticipate even more than pumpkin bread and those honeycrisp apples – is the return of my dedicated writing hours. I’m so lucky to have them and believe me, I make good use of them. I guard them like a tiger protecting her young, hoard them like Golem and his precious ring.
I’m in a holding pattern at the moment, since I just finished an intense writing/editing marathon. I’m catching up on life, spending time with my family and friends, and giving my brain a much needed breather. But my hiatus ends on September 4, and I will begin whatever comes next (I still have a few days left to decide!), jumping into it with the joyful abandon of a kid cut loose in a pile of leaves.
Are you ready for fall, or still savoring summer? Anything wonderful planned for the new month just ahead?