Won't You Stop and Remember Me

The season after summer arrived in New England, suddenly, over the latter part of last week. Not too hot, light breeze, no humidity, glorious skies, a deeper blue than the ocean, and the realization that Autumn will not last until Spring next year.

I had little use for winter even as a kid. I remember living in Belford, New Jersey, with snow in our backyard so deep that it was over my head. I was also a runt, which had something to do with that, I realized (years later). 

We had a dog, Sandy, a cocker spaniel that absolutely hated me. It was a present from Grandma and Grampy, my Mom's parents, and we always pretended how much we loved the dog when they came to see us (neither of my parents liked the dog; I stayed away from it to the point that months after we stopped having it, I noticed it was gone).

The house we live in has a front lawn and a backyard. They were both great to have when our two children were younger, as it gave them and their friends someplace else to play. Our kids are adults now. This time of year, we watch the leaves pile up as the season changes, but there are no trees on our property to speak of.

I love finding propeller pods everywhere. Do you remember those from when we were kids? Another great invention by nature to better assure the perpetuation of all the various species of trees, not that we ever saw it that way when we were smaller. There are so many again this year, and so many of them land on the walk leading to the house that every footfall sounds like you're walking in Rice Krispies.

The squirrels in the neighborhood love the pods and can tear through them in a blink to get to the seed in the center. The pods are so numerous that the squirrels have actually been leaving the peanuts we throw to them for later while they gorge themselves on the pods. Unfortunately for them, the blue jays are quite happy to eat their share of the peanuts.

It was very cold last Thursday morning. Crisp is a word my father would use, and so do I, in his honor, and that's the signal that the next phase of the journey has started. The darkness comes earlier now, and the shadows lengthen sooner as the afternoons move on. I promised myself this summer was the one I was finally going to enjoy, but then things came up healthwise, and promises turned to ash. 

Soon, the winds will shift and more often come out of the north and pick up in speed and intensity, and the simple joy of crunchy sidewalks will be gone as the animals and birds spend more time gathering and storing food with one eye fixed on the fall skies as a hazy shade of winter creeps inexorably closer.
-bill kenny