Mingling …

Day 219

The seasons are changing. It is no longer summer … and yet it is not yet autumn. We are in that time between seasons … when the temperatures vary and we are not sure what to wear so we dress in layers or take a sweater.

The mingling of seasons has started.

I lived in Colorado for 33 years. It was easy to tell when this change was upon us … you woke up one morning to a foot of snow! No, not really. Unlike what most people think of Colorado we never did ride horseback to the grocery store or ski to school. Not once. But we did get snow in September … and also in May … and once or twice I think we had a few flurries in June. Maybe not. Maybe that is just some old folklore tale.

In any case … we knew the seasons were changing because there would be that one day in August you could actually smell the air. It was different from the day before. It had an earthy, woodsy, snow smell to it. It was crisp and it was different. We could tell the seasons were changing.

And then there were the obvious signs … the park would be filled with kids playing soccer and football instead of baseball, the Aspen trees would start turning their golden hues and light up the mountainsides and the peaks would be frosted overnight with the first of many snows.

Here I’m finding it a bit more subtle. The air is definitely cooler at night and in the morning (meaning I really need to unstick these old windows! It’ll be snowing before I know it!) … but it’s a subtle change … almost imperceptible.

The bugs are still singing. STILL SINGING. These blasted cicadas have not shut up YET. All summer … singing away. The creepy chirper bug is still at it, too. They are slowly driving me insane and I no longer am happy with any of them. They can all fly away or die off or whatever they are supposed to do when the weather starts to change.

We are to be up in the high 80’s tomorrow but I’m sure it won’t be that oppressive, sweltering heat we had this summer. I’m sure we’ve seen the last of that. It’s now a softer high 80’s if that makes any sense whatsoever! The humidity isn’t so bad anymore … and I don’t say that because I’ve gotten used to it. It can be high – but it doesn’t make me think: I need three showers a day to survive … it’s now more like: Ooh, my skin feels so nice.

I’m not across from the park like I used to be. The cemetery occupants are not playing soccer or football … so, the change from summer to fall sports isn’t very apparent to me anymore.

The acorns are falling. It is Acorn City here. If each acorn was worth a quarter, I’d be rich. If each was worth a dollar, my family would be set for hundreds of years! It’s a pleasant sound … the plop onto the roof and then the gentle roll into the gutter or off the side to the patio. One would think that squirrels around here would be the size of woodchucks instead of the scrawny runts that they are.

In any case … I’m enjoying the mingling of the seasons … the air is a bit crisper and carries upon it the aroma of woodsmoke, cut grass and dinner on the grill. Mingle. Mingle.

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