The Turning

Since moving here, I think, I've decided that summer is my favorite season - and this, this has been my favorite summer of all.

The days stretched out in quiet, unhurried wonder.  I drank it all in, the insect songs, the fireflies at night, the grill-outs, the smell of cut grass, the blissfully slow sunsets, the best blueberries I've ever had.  The Saturday trips to the farmers market, the smaller piles of work in the office, the time to think and celebrate and make memories.

Oh, it was glorious.

August came, the semester was underway, and a shift began to happen.

I knew it was coming - because of course it comes every year - but I felt quite sad about the end of summer.  While everyone else seemed to be awaiting the arrival of "sweater weather", I was grasping, hanging on to the last bits of summer.  One more grill-out.  Extra blueberries to freeze.  Rejoicing over the thunderstorms and the random 90° days.

And yet...

Squirrels are burying acorns.  I always stop to watch and laugh to myself (maybe I laugh out loud?) because they're so funny about it - tails twitching, front claws scooping dirt frantically, furtive glances around.

The sun goes down earlier and the cloudy days are becoming more frequent.

Even the wind sounds different in the trees.  The edges of the leaves are starting to wither, giving the tiniest rattle to the breeze instead of summer's soft rustling one.  I'll need to rake soon.

Yesterday, soup and bread and spiced tea all seemed perfectly fitting.

Today I went to the farmers market for what the sweet lady at the table told me was going to the be the last of the blueberries.  I broke down and got raspberries too - they're my favorite berry, but they feel so expensive compared to other fruit that I just never get them.  I decided that it would be a shame to go a whole summer and not have any raspberries at all.  There were mums and different squash and half pecks of apples sitting in neat paper bags.

My windows are open just a crack, instead of wide open like they've been since spring.  I wore my flannel shirt and even considered socks.

It didn't happen all at once, just a slow turning, a change I can't control.

Seasons.

God promised we'd have them as long as the earth endures.

And so it is, just like He said.