It’s the first of October. Summer is over. Oh, there will be summer-like days with hot sun and warm breezes but that will not be summer. We are into fall and, like it or not, the seasons move forward, not back. We have had a great September. There have been ample opportunities to batten down the hatches for the coming of winter. The haying was finished in August. The bales are safe in the elk-proof corrals. The woodsheds are almost full (oh, the aching muscles from stacking it all!) The garden is harvested. The last of the tomatoes from the pots against the south side of the house were finally picked green and the plants surrendered to the inevitable frost. Some of the petunias bravely bloom on but they are on their way out. A truly killing frost will almost be a mercy now as I can’t quite destroy the poor stragglers while there is an ounce of life left. As always, the coming of fall makes me a little sad. Our winters are so long compared to our summers. Once the grass and leaves finally give up their green we will see no more of it till late April, at best. Still, this is no time to lament as many of the poplars are entering October still fully dressed in green while most years the leaves depart with September’s end. Although I mourn the passing of summer, all is not lost. There is a special comfort that comes with wood fires and long evenings with good books. This is the time for the bears-and for us-to den up and rest a little before the demands of another busy spring. Another season. New challenges. Old comforts remembered and renewed.

Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *