On the Days After Labor Day, How Do We Feel?
Are we preparing to welcome the fall or mourn the loss of summer?
I’ve put away my white pants. My garden is nearing the end of its season, and it has rewarded me with an abundance of tomatoes, cucumbers, and squash.
When I walk our dog, Teddy, in the early morning, I now feel a brisk air that I appreciate but also requires a light jacket.
On my last batch of garden tomatoes, I made tomato soup instead of Gazpacho — warm versus cold. I am preparing to roast some squash from my garden.
There are so many ways that I am marking the changing of the season.
How do I feel? Excited.
When I was a parent of school-age children, I always welcomed getting my kids back to routine. August meant shopping for school supplies, clothes, and backpacks. We would try to brainstorm new lunch ideas, but we still ended up with PB&J as our go-to (is it even allowed anymore?).
With Labor Day behind us, we officially marked a new start to the year, and we were excited. The kids would be back with their friends, and my big gain was getting more of my day back and working with less “juggle.”
I am a grandmother now, and all those memories are simply that — a chapter in my personal history book. But no matter my age and period of life, I still experience fall as marking a new beginning.
It’s as if I say to myself, “Playtime is over. Now it’s time to get serious.”
Fall is my favorite season, and it turns out that I am with the majority of Americans who vote fall as theirs. A CBS poll found that 45% of us prefer fall, and summer is second at 24%. Why? Here are my suspicions mixed with my personal reasons:
We have more comfortable weather. Our day begins with a crisp but invigorating chill and transitions to something quite pleasant.
The changing foliage is beautiful and even puts non-hikers on the trails to leaf peep.
From the kitchen, we embrace apple ciders, pumpkin bread, sweet potatoes, and cranberries.
We get to go sweater shopping (I keep offering L.L.Bean to be their personal model of an average person who wears one brand of sweater, but so far, no takers).
Fall ushers in some of our favorite holidays — whether it's Rosh Hashanah (the Jewish New Year), Thanksgiving, or, dare we forget, Halloween.
Rosh Hashanah deserves a special shout-out. My husband is a cantor at our synagogue, leading us in prayers. My brother is the Rabbi. I am blessed to have my kids and relatives come for meals.
Perhaps most importantly, Rosh Hashanah reminds me to consider my personal foibles and areas to try and improve. How can I give more? Be more? Listen more? Self-reflection is always a good idea, but in our overly programmed lives, it can be hard to do. The Jewish New Year reminds me, “It’s time.”
It was in September (1962) when then-President John F. Kennedy said to a crowd at Rice University in Texas,
“Think big. Why, some say, the Moon? Why choose this as our goal? And they may well ask, why climb the highest mountain? Why, 35 years ago, fly the Atlantic?”
He humorously added, “Why does Rice play Texas?” (the sports enthusiast in me loves this line).
September was simply the perfect month to deliver Kennedy’s “think big” message. Just a simple Google search shows how many people thought big in the fall. So many inventions had fall birthdays, which include transistors, photocopying, knee implant prostheses, sewing machines, automobile transmissions, collapsible tubes for items like toothpaste, and so many more “thing big” ideas.
It was in September when I started writing my first novel. I felt newly empowered and wanted a good stretch goal. Novel writing has “stretch” written all over it (pun intended).
This fall, I’ve added some fun ways to expand my repertoire. I will begin learning how to play mahjong this week. I’ve also engaged a trainer who is also a competitive dancer to help me develop “faster feet.” If I am able to make my feet more nimble, I will be able to cover more of the tennis court — not an easy goal as a sexagenarian.
So, do I mourn the loss of summer? No. I appreciate what it has brought me.
A garden. Paddleboarding. Family vacation with the granddaughter.
More leisure.
My first experience reading romance fiction to expand my writing game. My next novel in the series will have some romance, and I’m not sure how I will convey that. My husband is very curious as well.
So, to the sunsetting of summer, I say, “Thank you. You served me well.”
To the fall, I add, “Here I come. Watch out!”
I’m thinking big, and I’m excited.
It’s a season of new beginnings.
I always mourn the loss of summer here in Canada. Ours is never long enough.
Nice reflection. I don't mourn summer. Summer has become oppressive. And autumn is just teasing us with a few cool days before summer comes roaring back. Summer lasts longer now. And sweater shopping season is already over because the winter coats are out. "Seasonal" now means two seasons ahead for the big stores and shops. But I am looking forward to the fall. When it finally comes, I hope it stays awhile.