Waiting on fall

Why am I so anxious for fall to come?  Why do I look forward to putting on my warmer jacket and boots when I take my daily stroll down the road?  Why do I long for color in the trees that stretch far beyond my view to the west and north and east?

I must confess.  I love change.  Especially when we have suffered through what seemed to be a dry and hotter than usual late summer.  But change is coming.  I can see it every day.

The thermometer in the morning shows shivering numbers.  The wind has a certain crispness to it.  The squirrels are extra busy searching for nuts to hide.  Geese are flying south.

I love fall.  We build a fire in the stove in the morning to take off the chill.  And sometimes even in the evening.  I take walks down along the road and try to find the elusive wildflowers that decorate the stony margins this time of year.  The latest rain has helped them grow and I am finding a few more here and there.

Sunrises and sunsets are spectacular.  That ruddy line of orange-red that heralds the rising sun.  The crimson of the setting sun that lights up the trees with glowing splendor.  It takes your breath away.

I can not imagine a world without an autumn.  Constant warm breezes and hot sun.  Not for me.  

I guess I am fortunate to be able to live in a part of the country that has changing seasons.  Yes, even winter.  It is all part of the price we pay for the glory that is fall.  And I am enjoying every minute of it.