(Yosemite National Park by Marius Popovici)
Mr. Sun is going to bed a bit earlier these days.
He’s always up to something, even when he’s going down.
Welcome to the first weekend of fall, when the sun’s rays come at us from a southern angle, less directly, and shines brightest on leaves and strolls and football.
Autumn is candlelight. Summer’s a torch.
I am a big torch guy. Usually for me, the best thing about the first weekend of autumn is the promise that summer is just one full-term pregnancy away.
Yes!
But this summer was humbling. Near heatstroke. Foot blister. Sunburn.
The summertime trifecta.
Weather whizzes say this summer was among the hottest since 1981, when it was more than 100 degrees daily for nearly a month. I know because my shovel and I were helping build the Camden, Ark. bypass. There is not a lot of shade in the road construction game.
I remember thinking, “This is what it’s like to be a camel, only I’m thirsty all the time. My kingdom for a hump!”
Whatever they’re paying camels these days, it ain’t enough.
The difference between that memorable summer and this one was its number of seriously sizzling days. The high ’90s is one thing, but the streak of 105s and 107s we just sweltered through is a different ballgame.
The sun deserves a good rest after that.
So I’m ready for the new slant of light. I’m ready to appreciate autumn for being autumn, ready to appreciate the season, and not just because it’s football season.
(Not that there’s anything wrong with that: For some of us, autumn means the colors change all right, from Braves blue and red to Saints black and gold.)
I’m going to try to appreciate autumn more for all these reasons:
Leaves. In general. But also…
The colors of leaves. I miss at this time of year a sweet gum tree I used to have. I knew I was getting older when I got mad if it didn’t really turn on the red-yellow-orange juice by October…
Other people raking leaves – unless a little kid is going to play in them. Then I’ll rake. It’s worth it…
There’s something about an old sweatshirt…
The possibility that I might, just maybe, possibly, have the green thumb guts to plant petunias, some marigolds, a copper plant, or even an ornamental pepper…
The moisture of the morning on your skin, and it’s dew instead of sweat…
The spot on your shirt and it’s crab dip instead of sweat, because autumn is first about the colors but second about the food. Homemade pie. Cider. Tailgate or holiday feast, autumn is the best eating season of the year and it’s not even close…
Halloween. I love a kid dressed as a pumpkin and all you can see is their face poking out under the little hat with the green stem on it…
Hugging, which is the poor man’s snuggling, and Snuggling, which is the next stop for the couple who wish to promote from Advanced Hugging, or “Huggling.” It has been pointed out to me that this is a good and underrated thing, one of the best things under the sun…
So I wish for you some snuggles or even huggles in an old sweatshirt after eating as somebody rakes the leaves around your blooming flowers while you watch football. Or the World Series. Autumnal bliss…
(I left out high-sky golf in your favorite mock turtleneck, but hey, that’s a given.)
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