Death of Summer

I'm standing on the back patio, under the deck, grilling a couple of awesome steaks and I look up into the towering trees to see the advancing storm begin to dance in the leaves. A couple of my evening friends, bats, are dancing in the air looking for a meal and reminding me that although the calendar says that autumn has arrived--my now old friend summer hasn't really fully departed yet.

The loss of summer, much like the loss of youth, makes me sad. Perhaps that's why I keep playing racquetball--to hold onto something which is on the verge of passing away.

The evening sky is dark--but the trees remain in full foliage. Thankfully. There is no color in their leaves yet.

The pool, while open is too cold to swim in and with the skyrocketing price of propane we've decided not to heat it for one last early autumn fling this year.

The nights are colder and it is clear that autumn is close at hand. The leaves should begin to clothe themselves in their royal colors soon. So many people love the colors of autumn--I unfortunately always see it as a prelude to the gray blandness that is winter.

But the bats remain this evening and the geese have not yet begun to gather and honk their way to warmer climates. But the other birds are beginning to gather into endless flocks ready to move south and escape the clutches of the coming darkness of winter.

You would think that I am an autumn person--my birthday is mere days after the autumnal equinox. But I'm not. I remember fondly the first 90 degree day of the year when people were saying--it's hot and I said: "bring it on!" And now I long for those hot, steamy days.

If it would only stay. But the days march on and it is for us to enjoy the blessings given to us for each day of our lives and to enjoy the seasons and the individual daily pleasures they bring.

The hibiscus we keep in pots near the pool are in full bloom and with healthy, dark foliage. Splendor. Soon they will be screaming for light and warmth as we bring them in to survive yet another winter and to remind us that there will be another summer. They look forward to summer as much as I do.

It all goes so fast. Too fast. Fast like my last glass of wine even though I was sipping it to make it last. It ended and I was left with a beautiful memory.

I hear the rain beginning to build in the approaching storm. Like the storm in my soul which would have the world be in summer all day and every day. But that would be boring some tell me--I'd like to try it sometime anyway.

What a great evening though. The steaks are done and it's time to eat and enjoy a glass of wine and some great conversation with Chris. And remember the joy of the summer past while looking ahead to the seasons to come.