The Last Dance of Fall
As I look out at this dreary gray and rainy late October morning, visions of November are in my mind. November, one of my least favorite months (with March being the other); so gloomy with little sunshine to warm our bones and brighten our spirits.
Even though fall will be with us for another eight weeks, I refer to this time as the last dance of fall. The cool winds coming through over the next few weeks will blow the brown and drying leaves from the trees. As they are pulled from the branches, they will do their last dance as they are tossed through the air. As this transpires I will imagine they are ballroom dancers floating and gliding across the floor; my way of seeing the beauty in this bleak in between time.
Once again, we have put into storage all the things we have enjoyed over the summer and early fall. No more relaxing on the back deck in the hot summer sun. Outdoor gatherings are over until the long cold winter passes through; we will have to create our fun in the closed-up warmth of our homes. Lawn mowers and motorcycles have no purpose any longer, and boats have disappeared from the lake. Not surprising that this time of year can make us feel a bit down.
The things I always miss the most are the long bright days, and the warmth of the sun on my body. Short, dark days are so difficult to endure; no light as you awaken, and the darkness returns far too early in the afternoon. My body and soul hunger for the feeling of the sun's heat, and I pray for this season to pass by quickly.
In a few short weeks we will have Thanksgiving which will bring families together for great food, and a reminder of how fortunate we are to have one another. Then we will have Christmas! I love Christmas for what it represents, and the joy I get from watching my grandchildren. I know some people are not as happy to see Christmas arrive as they see it as a commercial holiday; I tell them only if they allow it to be. The greatest gift is time with family.
Until the holiday season arrives, I will enjoy this last dance of fall. Imagining that I am with the leaves in that ballroom; gliding across the floor to the music in my heart.
Even though fall will be with us for another eight weeks, I refer to this time as the last dance of fall. The cool winds coming through over the next few weeks will blow the brown and drying leaves from the trees. As they are pulled from the branches, they will do their last dance as they are tossed through the air. As this transpires I will imagine they are ballroom dancers floating and gliding across the floor; my way of seeing the beauty in this bleak in between time.
Once again, we have put into storage all the things we have enjoyed over the summer and early fall. No more relaxing on the back deck in the hot summer sun. Outdoor gatherings are over until the long cold winter passes through; we will have to create our fun in the closed-up warmth of our homes. Lawn mowers and motorcycles have no purpose any longer, and boats have disappeared from the lake. Not surprising that this time of year can make us feel a bit down.
The things I always miss the most are the long bright days, and the warmth of the sun on my body. Short, dark days are so difficult to endure; no light as you awaken, and the darkness returns far too early in the afternoon. My body and soul hunger for the feeling of the sun's heat, and I pray for this season to pass by quickly.
In a few short weeks we will have Thanksgiving which will bring families together for great food, and a reminder of how fortunate we are to have one another. Then we will have Christmas! I love Christmas for what it represents, and the joy I get from watching my grandchildren. I know some people are not as happy to see Christmas arrive as they see it as a commercial holiday; I tell them only if they allow it to be. The greatest gift is time with family.
Until the holiday season arrives, I will enjoy this last dance of fall. Imagining that I am with the leaves in that ballroom; gliding across the floor to the music in my heart.
Comments
Post a Comment