approach of fall

The sounds at dusk and the cool of early morning announce the slow and distant approach of fall. As if on cue, we turned the corner into August and the evening orchestra picked up a whole string section. In addition to the cicadas, and that rattling noise of some unknown (to me) insect, the crickets have added their song.

I love the crickets. They carpet the evening air with their melodies. But I find them sad, too. For they are the harbingers of summer's end. Oh, there will still be hot days when the tar on the road bubbles and the sun is too hot to handle. There is still time for swimming and vacation and lazy nights. But at the edges of daylight, in between the breathing of evening's warmth, the cool touch of fall reaches out and strokes you.

If fall weren't such a vibrant, crisp season, if it didn't feel more like release than loss, the harbinger of summer's end would be downright melancholy. Instead, I choose to sit outside til the sky and the leaves merge in their nighttime garb, and offer blessings for the peace around me.