Sunday afternoon, 19 September: I am sitting on the porch at the Twelve Acre Woods under a partly cloudy sky – some sun is still shining through. A breeze ruffles the tree tops, carrying a message that a new season is coming. It’s still hot and humid. The air is close in. It’s still summer, to be sure. But something in the way the bright white clouds loom in west, something in the way the trees stir in the wind, leaves fluttering – they’re expectant, barely containing…something.
It’s still summer. Oppressive. Stifling, and enforcing stillness. But there’s the breeze again. Something is afoot. A change is coming, and it isn’t a small change. It’s not a weekend or a holiday. It’s a whole new order, a refreshing movement of nature. A new season approaches. Better is coming.
Monday evening, 20 September: I’ve reclaimed my usual spot on the porch. It’s a pleasant evening to sit outside. When’s the last time I’ve thought that? There’s a storm brewing in the west – I can’t see it yet, but I can feel it. The way the wind blows, the uncertain light in the evening sky. The clouds are building a little bit. Tension is in the air, the wind is nervous laughter. We’ll see what happens overnight.
Tuesday morning, 21 September: Rain came in the early morning hours, on the heels of the harvest moon. The day broke cloudy, wet, sullen. It’s cooler than it’s been in a while, and still breezy. It’s cleansing after several hot, humid days. Count on it: change is coming.