There was a tiny taste of fall this weekend.
Friday began hot and the air was heavy and muggy. It was sunny and uncomfortable and then in a split second near the end of the school day the sky turned black and roiling and the heavens opened. The rain poured and poured and there was thunder and the lights flickered and turned off. We ended the day herding students out after the storm, with the sky still dripping and power gone, loading kids onto buses. The roads were full of branches and trees had fallen onto power lines and houses.
And with the end of that storm, cool air blew in. I wouldn’t call it fall yet, but the nights are turning chilly and it feels SO CLOSE. Fall is my favorite season. Summer feels like swimming through humid air and sweating and uncomfortable sunburns. Fall feels like sweatshirts and mittens; it feels like roasting marshmallows around a fire that you huddle around for warmth. Fall tastes like apples and cinnamon and pies; it smells like huge cups of tea. Fall is gray, but gray in layers. The sky pulls blankets over itself and snuggles in.
I’d like to go apple picking and bake now. I’d like to start packing away warm weather clothes and unpacking piles of blankets to drape over everything. Changing seasons spurs cleaning up and wrapping up loose ends. Changing seasons makes you feel like time has flown. Fall already? Every year my dad laments the beginning of football season; he marks the passage of time with the start of football. Each year he feels like the Super Bowl has just ended and week one of games is already over. I’ve never been a football fan and have only begun watching, so this is the first year that I feel that. Time flies and seasons change faster and faster each year and I hope I remember to slow down sometimes and grab onto moments.