I have a
pushmi-pullyu in my head. Part of me wants autumn to come, with the crisp air and leaves changing colors, beautiful golds, reds, and orange. Oh orange!
And pumpkins! I adore pumpkins. I dream about big orange pumpkins.
The other half of me wants summer to stay forever, the crickets singing me to sleep at night, the soft evening air, the tomatoes and zucchini pouring out of the garden in bushel baskets.
This is the first time in years that I’ve had a yard, a garden and green growing things to glory in. My favorite thing to do right now is sit in the backyard in the morning and watch my cat nose about. Gardens need a black and white cat resident.
I love the change of seasons, especially that huge serotonin release I get when I look around at all the fall colors and feel the nip in the air. I look forward to turning inward, snuggling deep into a warm afghan and my knitting, and I despair of the bleakness of January/February when my garden will be covered in a thick layer of snow, and endless days of grey skies and the infamous valley inversions. Each autumn I have this need to absorb as much of the sensual experience of it as I can, but the season is always so fleeting; I can see and feel it wooshing by before it's even here.
This is the first time in years that I’ve had a yard, a garden and green growing things to glory in. My favorite thing to do right now is sit in the backyard in the morning and watch my cat nose about. Gardens need a black and white cat resident.
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