Today was the first day in many weeks where I could cool the house just by throwing open the right windows and creating a cross-breeze through the house. A lovely, brisk current that should have made everyone feel refreshed and alive.
Instead, it created a feeling of impending doom for the younger members of the house. Summer is indeed over, at least it's no longer in charge. The cooler weather may not last for days, and warmer temperatures may return for a bit, but only for a bit. The signs are all there. It's time for school, and even the trees and the wind know it.
Some little part of me that still remembers the excitement, fear and sheer stress of these last few days of freedom becoming ten months of unrelenting education, felt sympathy with the cool wind that rustled the overgrown weeds that hang over the gravel pedestrian trail and carried hopeful seeds suspended from their white feathery parachutes. It's all necessary, but it happened so suddenly.
Several dozen sparrows gathered in the brush and bushy undergrowth, until the sound of feet crunching through the gravel alerted them. A flurry of brown wings beat the air and in a corporate flutter, they emerged to move further on. Breeding done, they've gathered for a communal meeting, to discuss plans and destinations. A small flock of geese flew over, calling attention to themselves with deep-throated honks. The great push is on to escape the cold that has not yet manifested but will soon be upon us. It makes me think of sweaters and warm socks.
And apple pie. That's when Autumn will really arrive. When the wind blows cold and dry, the leaves chase each other as they tumble to the ground and the house smells of warm cinnamon and nutmeg.
I am looking forward to this, now.