Summer's Passed Away

As leaves turn fire red, burnt orange, and citrus yellow, I stop and pause—

Months of yesterdays are mere memories now, for summer’s passed away. Tiny changes shall creep upon us…like goblins, princesses, and super heroes, as children creep from house to house, asking for candy. Adults pretend to be frightened, though happily hand out ‘trick or treats.’ They smile…recalling when they were kids and dressed up like the trendsetters of the day, or in homemade costumes that were artfully arranged oversized clothes.

With fall, wind gusts become the whispering promise of chilly days and nights to come. Days of freezing rain, snow, and sun reflecting off the ice that shines so bright it blinds our winter eyes. Visions of clean, clear icicles hanging off roof edges and sparkling in the sun. How often a Norman Rockwell scene turns into downed wires.

Old man winter looms and the first frost on the pumpkin chills us to the bone…that frost could easily have been snow.

And so I say to you, “GO!”

Go to the cemetery. Go visit loves ones gone before us. Go, sit awhile over the grave of your beloved who left this world before you were ready to say goodbye. Tell a few jokes and end with solemn expressions of love. For it will be a long winter and slow spring thaw…GO, go before a foot or more of snow impedes your path. Go, before it is too late to say fall’s final farewell.

I stroll around the yard picking up summer things and then head to the barn to stow them away until the spring. I look to the trees surrounding my property. In the breeze they sway, in fall’s nature-dance. I am held in God’s sweet trance. Nature, like human life, has a spring, summer, fall…we do well with those months…it is winter some dread. The white hair, the shaky hands, and the shuffling, unsteady feet: humped-over profiles of the elderly have only a cane to lean on in dreary weather. I am young, yet, but other loved ones are not so young and healthy. I wonder if they will survive the winter. No wonder they are shaky. I have seen several loved ones whose winters were short-lived. They are the ones I will bid fall’s farewell to at my local cemetery.

In my childhood, I helped my brothers and sisters build numerous snowmen, perhaps 100 or more. In my forties I’ve built eight. One each year my sweet, young niece graced my presence on some chilly winter day. For six years, I’ve built one snowman per year with my niece. Last year I built two. This year I hope to build three. All of them built with glee. For what can make the heart melt more easily than an innocent child begging, “Build a snowman with me!”

And so I did…and I suggest you do, too. For soon that innocent child grows up, way too fast, and that bundle of joy will no longer beg you to build a snowman…they will beg for car keys…so they can flee from YOU!

As leaves turn fire red, burnt orange, and citrus yellow, I stop and pause—

Months of yesterdays are mere memories now, for summer’s passed away. Tiny changes shall creep upon us…like goblins, princesses, and super heroes, as children creep from house to house, asking for candy. Be like my Uncle John. Don’t just give them one piece of candy…give them the whole bag!