It’s here and I can feel it.
Lawns crisping. Leaves starting to turn. A hint of fall in the air.
It’s darker in the mornings when I wake; just last week, the sun was up with me at 6:30 a.m. Not so anymore.
We’re having a push of heat again, the hot, sweaty, humid stuff that clings to your face and makes your hair curl at your neck. The push that fools folks into thinking summer’s still here. That there’s still time for the lake, for the pool, for lazy days of summer. But don’t be fooled. The countdown’s on.
Are you seeing signs of Autumn in your neck of the woods?
“The first week of August hangs at the very top of summer, the top of the live-long year, like the highest seat of a Ferris wheel when it pauses in its turning. The weeks that come before are only a climb from balmy spring, and those that follow a drop to the chill of autumn, but the first week of August is motionless, and hot. It is curiously silent, too, with blank white dawns and glaring noons, and sunsets smeared with too much color.” ― Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting