When does Autumn really begin?
The unofficial end of summer comes after the Labor Day weekend. We use the pool Labor Day, thinking it will be the last time of the season when in reality we could probably use it several times throughout September. Somehow the appeal is lost and we are ready to move on to Fall.
We might be ready, but the bugs are not and the calendar says “No” until September 21. It is now the beginning of November, and yet, I see this around my door late last week.
(Will mother nature please tell the walking sticks to die or move on?)
We do miss this little (or not so little) guy who greets my husband many a summer night when he lets the dogs out for the last time before heading to bed. Our frog has been absent the last few weeks, so I guess he’s in hibernation (do frogs hibernate? Who knew?).
Decorations. We don’t really have any for summer unless you count the baskets full of beach towels, ball caps, sunscreen bottles, sunglasses, wasp spray, red Bose speaker, small blue net for catching bugs while I lounge on the floatie, and other assorted pool paraphernalia that sits by the French doors leading out to the deck and pool. With all the flowers and plants and pool parts, there really isn’t a need for decorations.
There is that transition time between the calendar beginning of Fall and Oct 1 when it can still be 80 degrees outside and we’re still wearing flip-flops and shorts. But come Oct 1, 80 degrees or not, out come the fall wreath, pumpkins, scarecrow, black lantern, and yearly Halloween decorations. And candles…love the candles.
Is it Peak Yet?
Then we wait. We wait and wait to see if we will have the brilliant fall colors that our trees are so capable of but don’t always produce. For many years, off and on, I had beautiful trees outside my classroom windows that I tried to watch and appreciate throughout the fall season. Sometimes, after grading that 139th essay, I would stand up and walk to the window to see those trees and to remind myself that we must stop and appreciate the moments, the beauty, the people, and even the trees.
My drive now from the farm to the office in town is quite ordinary and routine. Oftentimes, my mind is adrift with thoughts of plans for the day or what transpired the day before. Countless times I have made the 45 minute drive, staring ahead at the road and mindlessly watching for deer or squirrels or muskrats or raccoons or armadillos or dogs or cats crossing the road so as not to cause their tragic demise.
When Autumn is here, though, I soak it all in. I stopped and took pictures one day, and then took some more the next because the colors were even more brilliant than the day before. Is it peak yet? Sure looked like it early last week, but wow, maybe not. There is more to come. I saw people this week stopping to take pictures just as I did, especially on our country road leading to our farm. I even enjoy the smoky grey days that come in fall where one minute it is a warm rain and the next it is icy cold. We dress according to the 80 degree day in our flip-flops and capris pants and get hit the next day with the 45 degree afternoon. What to wear, what to wear?
There is, I’m sure, some scientific explanation as to why the sunrises and sunsets are particularly beautiful during certain times of the year. Autumn does not disappoint with that either.
Is it Peak Now?
Sometimes peak color is mid-October, This year it is right now – early November. I thought we were going to miss out this year, but mother nature came through and gave us the magnificent shades of Ozark Autumn.
Fall Football
With Fall comes football. Eagerly awaiting the start of the season – ready for the next great season (we hope, oh boy do we hope), for the aroma of barbecue and grills, for sounds of songs blaring from the frat house speakers, for throngs of people walking to and from the stadium, for laughing and music amidst all of the tailgating, for the camaraderie of 75,000+ fans (at least for the first game) cheering on a team that struggles or excels depending on the day, month, year…I think there is something special about football in the south…but then again, I haven’t really experienced college football anywhere else. Going to games with family and friends (who are also family) is a major part of our Fall fun.
To Autumn
So Autumn – the last harvesting of the hay, the last mowing of the year, the football games, the walks outside to marvel at the luscious colors, the Ozark Corn Maze, the incredible sunrises and sunsets, Halloween (grandson’s first), celebrating family and friends…oh Keats, I wish I had your way with words.
I know every part of the country has its special fall colors and occasions. One of these days we will get to the other parts of the country to experience them. For now, though, we’ll continue to enjoy our Ozark Autumn and appreciate all that surrounds us. Any thoughts on Autumn in your part of the world?
Woo Pig Sooiee and happy Fall ya’ll!!!
“To Autumn” by John Keats
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eves run;
To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.
Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers:
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.
Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,–
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day,
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river sallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.