by Slim Randles
It begins in early morning, when the early risers among us go out to do the chores. Later on, the day may seem almost summer hot, but early in the morning, we can feel it.
We can sense autumn. Our eyes that are so tired from the sun’s burning can look silently around at the slight turning of the leaves, and we’ll know. It’s coming. We can feel it.
Calendars be hanged. Autumn does not arrive on a certain day, like a Greyhound bus. The weather guessers among us are quite often fooled.
You can’t tell it’s fall by reading the paper. Even this paper. But the senses know. We know. We can feel it. It’s coming.
Autumn is a reward for all the work we did in the sun. Autumn is a multi-colored blessing that drops on us whether we’re ready for it or not.
Autumn is more than football, more than Sunday dinners inside with relatives. Autumn is a coming together of good things that fall into our lives whether we deserve them or not.
Before the snows come. Before the cold. Before having to scrape the frost from the windshield. That’s when it happens.
That’s when we can look at the natural splendor around us and begin to believe that our dreams really will come true. Any day now. How could you not believe it on a day that’s turning to autumn?
We want to go sit in the woods with a gun or a bow or a fishing rod or a camera, or maybe just a peanut butter sandwich. Because the show is there for us.
When the curtain finally does go up on full-fledged fall, it can’t be ignored. No amount of political wrangling or religious argument can stop that tree in your yard from exploding into color.
No amount of human hassling or interference can make it come earlier than it should, either.
And realizing that, in itself, may be the greatest gift of all.
