This morning I woke up at 5:20, near my normal time, but thought I had awoken in the middle of the night. Padding outside to get the newspaper, there is the tiniest hint of chill in the air. On the sidewalk, acorn shells and fallen oak leaves speak to the squirrels' frenzied work last night.
Seeing the children, tanned and barefoot, running in the yards until late yesterday, not wanting to come inside, "not yet, mom." Knowing another school year is ahead and how fast it will go, and how soon my handsome big boy will be that much bigger and stronger. Me, interviewing for a full-time job that will keep me away from home more than I want to be. Listening to my dad describe my nephew's success at lacrosse camp, a nephew I get to see only a few times a year.
I love the fall in Chicago. But there is a reason why spring has always been my favorite season.
I have ALWAYS found fall to be a sad season. Sometimes I want to cry when I hear the boys in high school working out for a new football season, see the shadows change in the yard, the sun goes south, the leaves change color, everytone goes inside. We don't see the kids in the neighborhood for most of the winter, until they come out in spring looking about a foot taller.
ReplyDeleteNo wonder autumn makes me want to cry, it's all about saying goodbye.