I can’t go half a day without hearing someone screaming the merits of fall from the rooftops.
I’m not ready.
It can’t be real. This undying love for Fall. It must be a marketing ploy, right? All these people are just brainwashed by Starbucks and the fashion industry to go out and consume and promote everything related to Fall and cooler weather. Right?
Are these fall fans the equivalent of an insecure teenager that has to defend every choice they make? Are they so depressed that summer is over and rather than wallow in self-pity as they pack away their bathing suits and sunscreen while they prepare their souls to battle another cold winter they make over the top lists of what they LOVE most about fall?
They must have good therapists.
The changing of the seasons.
I can’t get into it. I’m not ready to say goodbye to summer.
On the drive up through the mountains I couldn’t help but notice that a small amount of leaves were already changing colors.
Ryan jokingly asked if he should pull over the car so I could go give those leaves a piece of my mind. That wouldn’t be a stretch, me being the crazy woman on the side of the turnpike yelling “Don’t change! It’s not allowed!”
I’m not good with change.
I’m terrified of what lies ahead, of the unknown. We are all just blind people. Not knowing where life will take us.
The changing of the season’s reminds us of that. We’re never in control.
No matter how much we praise the warm full sun it will still descend into the horizon, off to play with the other side of the world. We can admire the soft green grass and the vibrant trees but the grass will still turn brown and stiff and the leaves will die and fall to the ground.
Nature, it has some humor doesn’t? Making us work hard and rake up those dead leaves while we mourn them.
Spring and Summer are full of hope, of new birth, and a chance to dream and live with a little more freedom. Summer days are full of leisure, even though our schedules are generally more full in the summer than the winter. The warm sun greets us with open arms, making it easy to make hopeful plans for the future while in her company.
And then the sun abandons us. Our hopes prove to be silly little ideas.
In Fall I often feel like a hung over college student, cringing while looking back at the previous night’s events. Summer made us so young and naive. So free. Those dreams looked so promising through our big Ray Bans but in September, as the sun sets earlier and earlier each night, they look like childhood fantasies.
Seasons are a reminder that nothing is permanent.
Like always, I’ll fight change for a bit until I realize I’m wasting time fighting when I could be living.
Soon enough I’ll be burning pumpkin candles and living in infinity scarves, but this girl has always needed a little bit of time to sort things out her way. (I hope you know I’m not just talking about the seasons anymore.)
Change. She sure sneaks up and knows how to ruin a good party. But she’s been playing this game for far longer than my mind can even comprehend. I’ll try to trust her a little bit better.
Not only with this whole changing of the season’s thing, but with everything.