The Fall

The Fall

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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About the Author

Mary Carol Kendzia is a product development director for Franciscan Media Books. She lives in Rhode Island, where she occasionally dips her toes into the Atlantic and reflects on the mysteries of life, among other things.