Autumn again.

Sitting in my rocking chair looking out the front windows, I notice the maple across the street is beginning to turn. Before long it will be orangy-yellow. The tall walnut beside our house will be pure gold, towering over our roof. A jewel-toned tapestry is what the oak will remind me of and the half dozen crepe myrtles will turn peachy-red. And then every single leaf will fall to the ground. Every one. Hard to imagine.
When we lived in Jacksonville, Florida folks took their vacations in the fall to go to Tennessee and "see the leaves turn". Since I'd grown up in Tennessee, I thought that was funny. Until I spent a couple falls in Florida. Then I found myself seeking out roads lined with sumac - basically a spindly weed, but which turns scarlet red in the fall. That was the height of my autumnal glory for a few years.
I love summer, but when the leaves begin to look tired and the flowers struggle to appear happy, I'm ready for everything to have a rest. For the trees to go out in a blaze of glory. For the zinnas and begonias to be put out of their leggy misery. For the sky to deepen to match the deep blue of September's birth stone. All signs it is time to say goodbye to summer.
When something's been good, it's hard to let go. With two engagements this past week and Lizzy settling in and busy at college, the future is very much with us. However, sometimes in the early darkening of the afternoons, I remember those days when I gathered my little ones inside as the leaves fell. Remember the laughter and red cheeks around the table, eager to share supper with mom and dad, brother and sister. Tales of their days at school or play winding down in cozy beds sheltered from brisk winds.
Lengthening shadows seem to lenghthen my memories.

Over, I Guess.

I’m ready. Ready for the last day of vacation. It’s funny to me that on the first day of vacation I think I could stay forever. This is SO much better than home. But then this morning the humid smell of salt water and wet sand when I opened the balcony door, wasn’t refreshing. Having to walk over to the club house to check email and facebook is tiresome. Nothing on the schedule means making a schedule for each day. That was freeing at first, now it feels kinda loosey goosey. Like the vultures in Jungle Book. “Whadda you wanna do?” “I don’t know. Whadda you wanna do?”
However, something about knowing there is an end to this holiday makes it more special, more precious. Like a special thing sat up out of the reach of children’s hands, maybe even behind glass or in a protective frame. I’ve often been sorry when something beautiful got soiled or broken because I failed to take care of it. With age, I’ve learned to try and value special things before they are gone.
And this first empty-nest vacation, has been special and beautiful. I want to take time today to frame it, protect its memory, and value this week in such a way that it serves its purpose long after it’s gone. This week marks an ending and a beginning. Memories have flooded us when we’ve seen kids in the surf and hope surged as we watched couples a few years ahead of us, walking on the beach holding hands. There has been joy and even champagne toasts at our freedom and then tears when Jimmy Buffet starts singing “Little Miss Magic”.
I’ll never forget this week and, I guess that’s the point.