I made a pot of homemade applesauce today. The air was redolent with the scent of apples and cinnamon, immediately ushering fall into the kitchen. I was filled with anticipation. I love the feeling of anticipation--the sense of wonder. The feeling of untold potential. The excitement of being on the cusp of something new.
Earlier in the week I was sitting at the desk in the sunroom writing. All at once the light outdoors changed. Wind started churning as a front blew in. Huge drops of rain began to fall, pulling bright yellow leaves from the trees. The leaves caught in the swirling air making it look as though a ticker-tape parade had begun outside the window. Where had those golden leaves been hiding on trees still dressed in summer green?
Change sneaks up on me these days. Time passes more quickly than it seems it has any right to. 2016 is growing old just as I have become comfortable thinking it is time for a year that far removed from 2000 to arrive. But I won't think in terms of 2016. When I think in terms of passing years I feel old. I feel anxiety about time gone by and the limits on time yet to be. Instead I will think of the change of seasons, each bringing its colors, smells, foods and traditions. Each a reminder of all I love in life with fall being perhaps my favorite season of all.