It began when temperatures dipped briefly into the 80s, and I pulled on my favorite pair of jeans.
Then there was the inaugural pumpkin spice latte of 2014. Next came the pumpkin pie, and then yesterday, yesterday, on the 3rd of September, I hung up my fall wreath, and decorated the urn outside my front door with a pumpkin and silk flowers. I am guilty, I have been rushing fall.
We are 3 weeks away from the official last day of summer, but I just can’t help myself. I equate this change of seasons with comfort and good memories. Growing up in West Virginia, the leaves were a dramatic display of oranges, yellows, and reds — my Grandma loved it. One of the last memories we shared together was when I took her for a drive to see the changing colors. She passed away unexpectedly about a month afterwards. A year later (as a freshmen in college), I got my first tattoo, of a maple leaf changing colors – a nod to that day, that memory. As much as she would have hated the tattoo, I’m sure she would be pleased that each time I look at it, I think of her.
When I think of fall, my mind goes to Canada. I have spent many, many weeks there throughout my life, but September has always been my favorite time to visit. In 2007, the leaves in Northern Ontario were outstanding, the weather was perfect, (the fishing–mediocre,) but the days with my family were priceless. On the morning we left to go home, I remember looking up at the sky, the moon still visible at the un-Godly hour of our departure, and took some pictures of the maple tree beside our car. I remember being aware that I needed to take in that moment, because my trips there would be forever changed (except for the crappy mattresses.) Devastatingly, that premonition of sorts would soon play out, and that trip with Daddy would be our last. Five years after his passing, I returned to that same lake, the same cabin, even the same week, but sure enough, that horrible mattress was the only thing that felt the same.
As cheesy as it sounds, memories like these are reminders of how fleeting life is, and how important it is to be present in today. That being said, if I love my wreath and hang up it a little bit early, or I turn down the A/C and put a sweat shirt, or if pumpkin spice lattes went on sale in August, and I just happen to go ahead and drink one — am I really rushing fall or just enjoying things I love?