I opened the window in the kitchen this morning, as I always do while making the coffee. But instead of the thick, muggy air that has lumbered through most days this past month, a cool, light breeze ran in. Oh, no, not yet; it’s still August, I thought.
Fall is indeed starting its entrance around here. The first day of school was yesterday for most of the area, and while I know that other parts of the country have been in school for a few weeks now, New England and the mid-Atlantic states are traditionally post-Labor Day starts.
My head hasn’t caught up with the calendar, either. Last night a friend was talking about a popular music festival held nearby on Labor Day weekend; she said, “It starts tomorrow,” and I said, “No, it’s starts on Labor Day weekend, next week.” Uhhh, no… it starts today.
A restlessness has begun around the house. My husband cleaned out several cabinets in the kitchen this week, getting rid of some extra glasses and dishes that accumulated over time. I hauled down two cans of opened coffee from another cabinet, a type of coffee we don’t use: “Where did these come from?” Nobody knew, and out they went.
A glaring purple page in my desktop planner tells me it’s time to reorder next year’s pages. But I’m just not there yet. If they run out of calendars before I get my order in, well, there’ll be another calendar somewhere else. Why the big rush to move on to next year?
This holiday weekend, I’m making a conscious effort to celebrate the gift of labor, and the parallel gift of rest from it. Labor Day marks a change of season as well, for some a time to turn inward as the days grow shorter and the nights longer. I’ve heard a number of people remark recently that they’re looking forward to the cooler weather, and even a return to the more ordered scheduling that seems to come at this time of year.
What are your thoughts as summer winds down and fall moves in?
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