I took a long walk on Saturday and marveled at how very …. brown…everything had become….
and I thought about how the flow of seasons goes…somewhat predictable…even though in the Midwest we can have three seasons of weather all rolled into one day…no matter what time of years it is…which is just part of the charm of the Midwest…
that and relentless winds….
and those yellow ladybugs.
But seriously, as I walked I thought how just a short time ago the trees were ablaze with color and the air was crisp.
Suddenly wiener roasts, football games and sweaters all sounded appealing again.
Now as I walk, I look for glimpses of color and look forward to the prospect of Thanksgiving and Christmas.
Part of me longs for days past…part of me wonders what this year’s holidays will look like….part of me is mourning how quickly time passes and part of me is plotting Christmas vignettes for every available flat surface in our house…and part of me is already grousing that I can’t possibly get it all done…
And that’s the thing with seasons.
There is a process that takes place and we need to decide what is really important in the grand scheme of things while …
we live fully in the little moments instead of rushing on to the next big thing.