With the arrival of November, it seems that autumn is finally arriving to my little corner of Texas. Looking around you certainly wouldn’t know it. Just looking out the window it could easily still be the height of summer. The days are still filled with sunshine and we’re still reaching daytime temperatures in the mid-70’s.
Even the trees seem in defiance of Mother Nature and her demand of seasonal changes. Their leaves remain green and have as yet refused to fall.
Not that trees are here in excess…or even moderation. All vegetation is rather scarce, and the majority of what we do have doesn’t change its appearance based on seasons. Not to mention they could deflate even the most sturdy playground kickball if it were to land in them.
While the days remain warm, the nights are getting cooler. We still haven’t gotten our first freeze, but that’s supposed to arrive next week. With the cool (or to me….cold) nights comes my least favorite indication of the seasonal change. My toes turn into little ice cubes.
Autumn is more than just the changing of the leaves and the constant chill I feel in my feet. It’s nothing visible or tangible, but rather an indefinable feeling that permeates the soul. It goes beyond the “holiday season” that seems to have descended on us since the passing of Labor Day.
I’m not saying that’s not a contributing factor, but back home it started before Halloween. There was a slight crispness in the air that seemed to carry it in. My sisters and I would spend afternoons and weekends raking the leaves in the front yard that had fallen from the huge maple tree then turning them into giant piles to jump in.
Winter was close on the heels of fall, and they usually exchanged days within the same week. Us girls were always hatching plans on what we wanted to do if there was a massive snowfall and school were let out for the day. Snow angels, occasional snowmen, and once we even talked Dad into joining us in a snowball fight.
So even without thoughts of the typical family-oriented holidays, the fall brings to mind a plethora of family memories. In an undefinable, unexplainable way it gives me a ground when work sucks and has me feeling discouraged. It gives comfort as only the smells of cinnamon and nutmeg can.