Seasons

On Sunday morning after two days spent in New England, I took my coffee and book out to the front porch in the morning.  It was sunny and pleasant, warm, but but hot.  There was a slight breeze rustling the fallen  leaves of the neighborhood sycamore trees.  Birds were chirping and in the distance I could near the woodpecker that lives across the street.  It was pleasant and as I sat in the rocker I read and daydreamed about the pumpkins and mums I will set out for October.  I thought of the coming end the front porch season, a transition I only accept because it means warms sweaters and then the twinkling lights and fresh pines smells of December.

I’d made a generous pot of coffee and as I refilled my cup, the breeze picked up and blew clouds over the sun.  The birds began a nap and the only sounds were crickets and rustling leaves.  It was as if my thoughts about October had conjured the arrival of fall.  As much as I’m sad about the passing of flip flop season, I’m looking forward to the seasonal change.  The defined seasons are one of the nicest parts of life in New Jersey and I enjoy the transition to a new season as much as I enjoy the season themselves.