Actually, most of us here in the Midwest really don’t talk like that, but I couldn’t resist. We’re much more likely to say “It’s fall, you guys,” but it just doesn’t have the same ring.
Still, every time I pull out my “It’s Fall, Y’all!” T-shirt, I can’t help but smile. It is my favorite time of year.
While it’s not officially fall yet, the kids are back in school and there’s a different feel in the air.
Summer is wrapping up, and my garden is slowing down. I will soon can, freeze, and dehydrate the last of the vegetable crop.
There will be zucchini for zucchini bread, tomatoes for soups, stews, and pasta dishes, cucumbers for pickle relish, and a variety of herbs tucked away for the months ahead.
And it’s nearly time to trim my roses back so they can rest until spring.
The trees will soon turn color, painting the landscape in brilliant hues of yellow, red, orange, and russet.
And there will soon be traces of woodsmoke as people light their fireplaces against the first chill of the season.
Although the home I live in now doesn’t have a fireplace, I fondly remember the one we had in my childhood home, where Carl and I continued to live until 2002. Now, I’ll enjoy the memories and perhaps catch the scent of someone else’s fire on a cool autumn evening.
It won’t be long until the earth itself breathes a sigh of relief and settles from the busy energy of summer into the slower pace of fall, as it prepares for winter’s slumber.
For me, fall has always been a season of quiet gratitude. It is a time to reflect on the year so far and look forward to the months ahead. I hope to spend them writing, enjoying life, and sharing the holidays with the people I love.
For now, though, I’ll simply pull on my favorite T-shirt, smile at the changing season, and enjoy every colorful day that autumn brings.
Through My Eyes, Gently 