Though "autumn" sounds a wee bit pretentious but it has that poetic ring to it...
The sweltering heat waves of summer have passed into happily cooler weather with just a hint of the first smells of fall in the air. I told C. yesterday that it felt like the first week of September, which was always one of the best time of the year in my memory...the excitement of the new classes, new clothes, looking forward to my fall birthday, the apple orchard, the Renaissance fair, and all other assorted fall traditions. Last year, summer started late and ended late-In October, I arrived at the hospital in flip-flops to give birth and left three days later in a shivering jumble of holy-crap-what-happened-to-fall. C. and I both feel we got the short end of the stick when it came to fall last year, so we are looking forward to living it up this year, with our mini-me in tow.
It's ironic that the time of year I feel most alive is the same time everything in nature is passing, resting, dying. I wonder if there is some great deep meaning in this, and I think I'll ponder that while I scrape the this mornings food typhoon of bananas and cheerios off the kitchen floor. Sleep deep and well, my sweet goober, for Mama has some thinking, hoping, praying, and cleaning to do.
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