Fall – Beyond Walking

The Shadow Dreams Into Fall

First days of seasons so often seem to miss their mark, promising either something that has already arrived or that may not appear for weeks. They masquerade as transitions when in reality, the transitions exist on a continuum, and that official “first day” merely marks the calendar’s progress. Yes, there is the lengthening or shortening that is most dramatic on an equinox, but things don’t necessarily feel different.

Why, then, do we go to so much trouble to note the hour and minute that one season slips into the next? Perhaps it is simply because we need to measure the days in some way. For quite a few years, I measured them with my students by writing haiku. But this isn’t about the haiku; it’s about the images and music this first day of fall calls to mind for me.

Fall into Reading with Leaves, by David Ezra Stein

If I were so inclined, I think I could create a collection of nature-inspired children’s books that no one in my house would read but me. The trouble with some such books is that they lack any plotline that might keeps kids interested over a period of time. They might have lovely language, delightful images, or interesting information, but I think even those that have all three qualities can grow repetitive in their basic enumeration-of-things-that-move-about-the-woods narrative.

In more than a few cases, the art is the main draw (ha ha), the prose lacking. I have, for example, a book beautifully illustrated with cut paper, but the language is ho-hum. Still, for some reason, as long as perhaps two of the qualities mentioned earlier are reasonably well met, I can’t get enough of outdoorsy picture books. Today’s feature is a fun read for little ones as we enter the fall season.

So Long, Sultry Summer

*Fall-like weather you can’t feel from a photo, a bird I can’t name, and a snake in front of it (not visible here).*

We are not really saying good-bye to summer, of course. In recent years, I have seen temperatures in the 70s well into December. Still, the light has been shifting for weeks now, and this past weekend we got our first breath of fresh air with a Saturday that was cool(er) and breezy. I think nearly any place could feel like heaven in those conditions.

As it was, we spent part of the morning walking around a nearby lake, which was good enough. Blue skies, water rippled by light wind, enough people out to convey a sense of connection, not so many that we wanted to be somewhere else instead. For some reason, though, this particular lake makes us think and talk about being in other places: Maine, North Carolina, Montana, Europe. What if…? What if…?