Rambling on about Wishful Changing of the Season…

As the calendar flips to September, an unmistakable longing for cooler weather starts to settle in my soul. Living in the deep south, the hope for relief from relentless humidity is almost as much a seasonal tradition as football games and sweet tea.  I find myself yearning for crisp evenings spent fireside under a tapestry of stars, savoring every small sign that autumn might finally be on its way.

We’re in what I like to call “faux fall”—that peculiar period when brown leaves begin to drift from the oak trees and the nights offer a gentle coolness, yet daytime still clings stubbornly to summer’s heat. It’s a season of contrasts: the soft crunch of fallen leaves underfoot in the morning, and the sweltering sun by afternoon. It’s not quite the autumn of my dreams, but it’s a start, and I find comfort in these subtle shifts.

Change is written everywhere, if you know where to look. Pumpkin spice has made its triumphant return to coffee shops and grocery stores alike, filling the air with hints of cinnamon and nutmeg. Local markets are lining shelves with harvest-themed treats and decorations. Even if the weather hasn’t caught up, these little touches help cultivate autumn’s magic indoors and out and fill my mind with harvest dreams.

This is the time of year when I begin to gather decorations for the harvest season. Wreaths of sunflowers, and pumpkins both real and ornamental, start to make their way into the house. Scarecrows sit amidst the potted plants in the house and outside. There’s a gentle transition, too, as autumn’s harvest blends into Halloween’s playfulness as jack-o’-lanterns appear on the porch and cobwebs draped across bushes and the porch rails. The spiders on my porches are already helping decorate. Preparing for these celebrations gives me something to look forward to, a way to embrace the season even if the temperature outside says otherwise.

While the deep south holds tightly to summer, I find solace in these rituals and small changes. Each fallen leaf, each mug of spiced coffee, is a gentle nudge that autumn is on its way. And so, I wait—patiently, if not a little impatiently, for that first true cool front to sweep away the lingering heat and welcome in the season I love most. Harvest season, the orange, golden yellow, and reds of fall whisper sweet words to my soul… They speak of resting time, of the time when nature falls into a period of renewal, before the sleep of winter and the busyness of spring. This week I burned piles of limbs trimmed for the fall, in preparation for winter and to be ready for spring bloom again. The mowing season is in decline, and I am trimming the acres in anticipation of the months ahead when the tractor will sit under the shed, it too at rest. I dream of crisp morning walks around the acres, of times of porch sitting that require no fans or bug spray, and the smell of burning leaves and firepit nights. Now where did I put that bin of pumpkins for the porch? It s time to move about and get a few things done, Maybe it’s not too early for an apple cobbler full of cinnamon and spice for Sunday dinner tomorrow. Come on fall, faux or not, I am ready…