It’s fall again and everything in the world is being infused with the flavor of pumpkin. From candy to coffee to cooked foods. It’s disturbing really. When I was a kid, fall was a season. It wasn’t a flavor.
This is my favorite time of year despite its strange connection with pumpkin. There’s a shift in the air and the temperature that changes everything. I noticed it in all its glorious completeness last Friday on my way to work.
There was a steady drizzle of rain falling from the sky as I pedaled my way down the street. The wind was at a minimum –just enough to require a light jacket partially zipped over my hoody. More to keep the rain from soaking into my skin than anything else.
Before the light began to peek into view, the atmosphere took on a hazy look. Together with the street lamps glowing and my headlamp shining, the trees could be seen. There aren’t many of them here, which makes them all the more special when one sees them reaching heavenward. The yellow leaves on the branches jiggled in the breeze; a few of them catching the wind and spiraling down to the ground.
People are a lot like leaves.
We change colors through the wonder of make-up, chemicals, and as we age. Not only externally, but internally as well. Growth happens, dreams shift, immaturity fades with time.
Occasionally, life shakes things up a bit, tosses some wind our way. While some hold tight to the branches, others take flight and float with the breeze. They skitter across walkways and paths tangling up against nature.
Falling down happens in life. Winds blow hard and fast. Storms besiege us. It’s the getting up that counts. Pumpkin spice flavoring is simply a bonus.