Summer's Endings, Fall's Beginnings

 

With August at its close, it feels, as always, like the unofficial end of summer. The flowerpots on my balcony are starting to look sparse and straggly, but at this point, I no longer care, because there is the promise of new incoming beauty. A few of the trees are turning. The other day, on a walk in my ’hood, I picked up this red maple leaf, and my heart gave a little skip of joy.

Fall and its vibrant colours never fail to delight me. Yes, they inspire wonder in others too (how could they not?) but sometimes I think that, if you didn’t grow up with fall, if it was never commonplace in your youth, then you have that little extra feeling of enchantment at how spectacular it is. If, as a child, you never leapt with glee into a pile of crisp, colourful leaves, now, when you see a heap of them, you’re tempted to dive in. I won’t, of course—old bones—but the thought does occur.

I wonder if discovering some things later in life add to your enjoyment of them; cause you to look at them and ask—what have I been missing? 

I discovered painting about five years ago. If I’d painted when I was younger, got frustrated, set it aside as life got busy, not returned to it because I already knew my experience with it, then perhaps I would not now know the joy it brings.

Sunrise viewing from my balcony

Of course, later-in-life discovery and appreciation may also be because we now realize how precious time is, and we have the luxury of being able to slow down, notice, contemplate, and reflect. We don’t have competing priorities of full-time jobs or raising kids.

Once you’re familiar with something, it no longer has the potential to fill you with a rush of delight. So we search for that novel experience, that new thing to awaken our senses. But we also hold on to the tried-and-true that bring us comfort and quiet solace. What we’re after of course, whether consciously or unconsciously, is balance—the familiar, to feed our need for ease, and the new, to satisfy our curiosity.

The moon was magnificent

I know what it is I seek when I travel—something new and different, an experience that will make me slow down and look at the world with a fresh perspective, savour the days and surroundings in a new way, counterbalance the routine and comfort of home.

Does that sound like I’m itching to get on a plane? Perhaps, but not while fall is approaching here at home. Summer may be ending, and I know many look upon that wistfully. But I had enough heat during my youth to last me a lifetime, and heat becomes more intolerable as I age. Walking in it can be a miserable experience. But a walk on a crisp, fall day, amidst magnificently coloured trees? You can’t beat that.