It’s the first week of September. Technically, still hotter than most months, and yet, as I drove off the mountain, I noticed a tinge of yellow along some of the trees. Even though autumn is my favorite season, I had a moment when my brain said, oh no.
A stump along the road to my house.
I work in education, but my job is still year-round, so summer is not a vacation. But the evenings are longer, the weather is consistently warm, and I can go for long walks that clear my brain and prepare me for the next day.
September is beautiful, but it is also the ending of one season as we slide quickly into the chilly, bitter days of winter. I get more books read in winter, and I love watching it snow. But let’s face it, it’s dreary, it’s cold, and all plant life is brown, leafless, or straight-up dead.
I have a few more weeks before it is officially fall, but that first flash of yellow was the start. The mourning period will soon begin. We all must wait patiently while Persephone returns to the underworld, and we all must wait for the return of spring.
From Creek to River 