Every region with deciduous trees likes to brag about its leaf change. Where I grew up on the Oregon Coast, we were happy enough with brief and soggy yellow alders raining down onto our wet highways. When I first left for college in Chicago, one of the events I looked forward to most was stepping on a crunchy red leaf–the first to fall in autumn.
Here in the Ozarks, the trees are starting to rust. The days are shortening. The evening air is cool and, dare I say, brisk. I don’t mind.
Fall means a lot of different things for a lot of different people. It seems to conjure up the need to reflect and perhaps grieve. Jon always says that this feels like a sad time of the year to him. I can understand that, but I don’t share the feeling.
Change is good. We need it. Relish the opportunity. This is life.
I feel so lucky to live in a land where October has a meaning.
Welcome, fall. I’m happy to have you.