Fall always feels so wide and empty after the busy humming and buzzing of summer. Sure, the colors are gorgeous, but they crescendo and abruptly wilt away, drifting to to the ground in crunchy piles. The box elder bugs attack me on the front porch, the Asian beetles crawl their way into every crack and crevice, anxious to escape the cooling temperatures. The only flower blooming now are the asters. Brave and showy, they glow in the midst of empty stems and stalks.The happy chirp of crickets has been replaced by the frantic shouts of geese moving south.
So many geese.
Some hunters on the Back Forty take aim and the still air explodes.
Fall empties my spirit, loss replaces all the joy and abundance filling summertime. While most folks swoon over the colors of the leaves, cheer wildly for football teams, savor the smell of burning leaves and mulled cider, I paste a smile on my face and try to appreciate it. But I'm really mourning summer and itching for spring to come again.
Even so, there is apple picking this time of year.
And that helps.