Suddenly, it’s fall. The world seems to have leaped from August and straight into October. How did it happen? Did I not smile into bright sun just last week? Did I not sit outside at a little cafe, laughing and drinking iced coffee, cherishing every bit of that salt caramel ice cream? Didn’t breeze feel so good and gentle? Wasn’t I wearing my favorite sundress?
Suddenly, it’s fall. I am cold today. For the first time since long gone winter, I am wearing my old navy blue cardigan, and it seems to be holding in it the last, melting, disappearing pieces of summer warmth for me. It rains all day and my small umbrella doesn’t seem to remember how to do a good job of protecting me – or maybe it’s the wind that renders it useless. I come inside shivering and wet.
Suddenly, it’s fall. The rain makes everything and everyone look different. Lights and colors are distorted and mysterious. My fellow humans are wearing rain jackets and rain boots, and the street is blooming with bright umbrellas. “I am not ready for this cold !” – I keep hearing in coffee shops and at work. “Tell me about it,”- I answer grumpily and look at the world through the rain drops covering the window; I touch it and find the glass cold and unsympathetic.
Why am I so surprised by October? What did I think was going to happen? Have I managed to conveniently forget that after summer there comes a fall? Why do I stare into the grey sky with this immense, surprised vulnerability? Why do I keep waiting for the clouds to part and for the rain to stop falling?
Perhaps just like others around me, I simply was not ready. Perhaps I haven’t noticed that there were plenty of little signs of fall fast approaching before it came to me. Couldn’t I feel the gentle breath of the fall? Couldn’t I hear the leaves whispering as they fell into the dry grass? The nights were getting colder, the summer was leaving fast, and the changes were all around me.
… I walk outside again and as I struggle to open my umbrella, I spot a tiny red leaf on the grey, wet pavement. The leaf is shiny, has black spots in the midst of its bright redness and is breathtakingly lovely. As I pick it up, and feel the treasure of its cool wet touch, I laugh at myself. I just spent a day feeling sad and sorry for myself because it was the first day of the real fall. I just spent a day missing the treasures and joys of change the fall brought.
… It might be a gray, rainy day, but there are so many miracles right under my feet. All I need to do is look closely and discover that no day is gray; that the rainiest of mornings is painted in colors of wonder and joy.