Like a wolf on a hill, I raised my head and inhaled deeply.
"Fall is in the air," I told a friend yesterday.
"We'll have more warm days," he said.
Maybe. But not too many.
Sometimes in summer, we (of course) have cold spells. It gets chilly, maybe with rain, then the temps rise again. This time of year the feeling is different. There's an edge to the chill, one that warns to enjoy what warmth there is because soon there won't be much, and for a long stretch. When I got up this morning I felt the warning in my bones, pulling on socks and scurrying downstairs for hot coffee. The green of the trees isn't so bright today. Grass is crackling. My cats are twirling and yowling. Harry has burrowed into his bed. We aren't much different from the animals, we humans, since animals we are (some more than others). We all feel it, autumn getting ready to boot summer out on her sorry behind.
Change is a good thing. I'm redecorating my fireplace room with a new floor and new paint, new window coverings, new artwork on the walls. It's a disaster at the moment, but come October I'll huddle back there with friends near crackling wood, watching through the glass as plump orange leaves -- Mother Nature's sailboats -- drift lazily out of blue skies, foretelling snow.
The kids are back in school and Jack-o-Lanterns are only weeks away. Facebook friends are lighting wood stoves, another season winding down. It feels good to put on a sweater.
Enjoy every one of these days -- every one -- even when work and laundry and dishes and life's mania get in the way. Spend a few minutes -- every day -- to stop complaining and take a deep breath to acknowledge that at least this day is a fine one, because you just never know when your days will end for good.