Savoring the Season

Some time ago I worked with a very nice man who loved fall. On the first slightly cool day in October during the first year that I knew him, he arrived at work exhilarated, full of happy plans for the season, and he shared those plans with me, his stressed-out office-mate.

He and his family would be doing an old-fashioned cane grinding, he told me, on their farm. “We always go camping too,” he said, “in the fall. And play touch football in the yard. We make chili and cornbread. We love to sit around our fire pit on frosty nights.”

“Cool,” I said.

“What do you do in fall?” he asked in his pleasant, friendly way. “I mean, to enjoy it?”

“Um . . .” I said. If I had been honest, I would have answered, “Nothing,” but because I didn’t want to disappoint him I made something up. I said I made caramel apples and went to the North Florida Fair, which is what I wished I did, I guess.

Later the conversation got me thinking: I had loved fall when I was younger, but now I barely noticed it because I was so busy working. I was definitely missing out. So I made a plan to, as I described it to myself, “take back the fall,” to embrace it, to rejoice in it the way my wise coworker did. I resolved to start decorating for Halloween again and picking goldenrod on the side of the road again—just like I did when I was young.

Now a long time has passed since I made that pledge, but I never forgot it. I renew it each September.

Yesterday was our first fall-y day of the year here in Quincy, with weather that was cool, clear, and sparkling, under a royal-blue sky. After work (I’m still working from home) I ran outside to try and seize the moment. I let my cat June out too so she could frolic in the grass as I cheered her on. When she was safely back inside, I took loads of pictures of the gaudy, fabulous hurricane lilies and the mist-like ageratum blooming all over the yard. Near the breezeway I admired a big banana spider and her glittering web strung between two citrus trees. I watched butterflies and picked ripe hot peppers. I spotted a white squirrel and heard a hawk cry—and I knew that Charles, my old friend at the office, would approve.

Ironweed and rosinweed in bloom in the front yard:

Ageratum is the most bewitching shade of blue:

Hurricane lilies would make amazing crowns for teddy bears, I think:

The impatiens bloomed all summer, and they’re still going strong.

This is way off topic, but here’s a little painting that I finished recently: