Goodbye Summer

The first time I stopped at the library after we got back from Utah I was surprised to see that the leaves on the trees in the parking lot were already turning colors. Quite frankly, I was shocked to see gold and red on a North Carolina tree at the beginning of September. I dismissed this warning of impending autumn, telling myself that these trees have only been planted there for a year or two--surely that has something to do with their having mis-read the weather cues.

I am not ready for summer to be over. I'm not good at endings and goodbyes anyway, but even less in this summer of fragments. I wanted a few more sultry evenings at the warm swimming pool with pizza and friends, another violent summer storm, more dinners with squash and beans fresh from the garden. The result of having crammed so much into one short summer is that I am left unsatisfied by it all, feeling that on almost every count I have come up short.

(You might suggest that surely two weeks in a row at the beach should at least fill that need, but let's be real. This is me! I will always need one more day in the ocean.)

As I've walked the quiet streets of my neighborhood in the last week I can see that fall is inexorably approaching, with total disregard for my feelings. First a branch of red leaves near the stable, then a few days later across the street. Yesterday as I drove home from church I noticed that my beloved tree outside of our neighborhood had patches of leaves that were no longer green.

I know that in the end I will be seduced by the new season; I will enjoy the crisp temperatures, the drier air, and I will persuade my friends to take a walk near the river to enjoy the glorious colors.

But I was not ready for summer to be over...