Equinox

As I write here in my little nook, the Autumnal Equinox
looms. Summer has ended and for most of us those remnants of July will soon be
packed away. Styrofoam noodles and camping gear, coolers and sunscreen,
reluctantly tucked away; the hibernation of Spring’s ambitions. Trees already
fringed with orange and scarlet prepare to blanket lawn and sill. Squirrels
give chase to one another; darting beneath fallen, stained maple leaves; no
time to waste.

Our minds, too become more industrious; turning to firewood
and oil. The odd air conditioner still hangs precariously from a propped sash,
collecting yellow birch and brown spider before being relegated to the garage
or attic for another season. This ancient drive, this medulla-sparked fidget
that snaps the synaptic switch as the sun takes a more earthward slant reminds
us. As Spring bears the fruits of hope, so Fall’s legacy is to bear the harvest
of hopes unrealized. That porch on your list of repairs in May will have to
languish another winter. The ten pounds you wanted to lose with all your Summer
activities will have to hide nicely behind sweaters. There are more pressing
things now. Inconsistent Fall makes us at once rake leaves and put up weather
stripping while slowing down with the rest of nature. As the last grasses of
Summer have gone to seed, so we make our final physical push; stretching as the
grass, as green fades to gold; at last to slumber and dream again of Spring.

And so, welcome the Fall. Indulge in the crisp breath of
morning. Linger hours, calling forth the flavors of a perfect stew. As the
evenings grow chill, revel in the first fire of the darkening season. Hear the
iron of the stove creak, smell its radiant heat mingled with sweetly seasoned
wood, and breathe deep the cider of the season. Pull out an old sweater from
its hiding place; the one that still smells of last Winter: wood smoke and
toil, spruce bough and slush. Gather in and forget those things that need to
wait. They’ll make better dreams in March.