The cool fall air hangs out in the shade, giving summer one
last day to heat the sun-exposed areas with too-hot-to-sit-in temperatures. I
sit halfway between the two in my long-sleeved shirt and jeans.
Leaves still dress the trees in summer green, although many
have nodded to fall, donning red-tinged garb. Windy, gentle gusts loosen some.
These drift across the yard to end their existence in decay, their final gift
to the earth. The wind dances the leaves still clinging to their flexing
branches and makes a rushing sound that crescendos and ebbs in pleasant
rhythms.
Bees buzz and bob close to my head, but find no sweet
fragrances to fixate on. I easily swat them away. A neighbor’s wind chime
jangles pleasantly. Another neighbor's
wind flag moves like a hero's cape in action. A songbird tweets timidly as
though uncertain its voice is welcome in the changing of seasons. White seed
specks drift with the wind, released from an unseen pod.
Summer, I’ll hold you while you linger. I don’t want to let
you go. Fall is approaching and will chase you away. I’m comforted to know you’ll
be back next year.
In a chaotic world of competing politics, tragedies and
injustice, it’s good to know the seasons can’t be controlled or stopped by
human whim and decision. Planet
alignment or what the weather will be bring can’t become a tool government can manipulate for advantage or revenge. Thank God for the absolutes of His
creation!
