Fall is in the air. My favorite time of year. Though I have been too busy to notice it.
My older daughter is currently on fall break, and she has been spending the week at a campsite near the edge of town. On the way to drop her off the other day, I suddenly realized the leaves were changing. Speckled among the green was gold and even some red. This color scheme is one of the things I love most about fall. Even the arrival of the yellow school bus brings me a thrill. And I almost missed it.
I seem to be missing a lot lately. Sleep. Sanity. The season. And most regrettably, the seasons of my children’s lives. Just the other day, I heard my dearest telling the older one that she no longer has a baby face. That she is now a big girl. Of course, she has been a big girl for a while now, but this realization hit me much like the one in the car. Like the leaves on the trees, her face has changed. The evidence of this is hanging on the wall in our hallway. She is no longer the two-year-old posing with Mommy for a Christmas photo. Now, my younger daughter, who will be two in a few months, is going through her own transformation. As my mother says, “She has her own little personality.” This little personality sits in a little chair pretending to read Mommy’s magazine while I write.
For some reason the fall semester is always busier. Maybe it’s the long summer break that lulls me into a sense of leisure, and the sudden flurry of activity the fall brings wears me out. Between work, the school schedule, and the various holidays and festivals of the season, I am usually ready for the dead of winter when snow days bring life to a momentary pause.
Soon enough, another Christmas will have passed. My younger daughter will have celebrated her second birthday. And we will have moved into yet another season. I just hope I don’t miss it.