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I’m definitely a summer person.  In the summer, I am full of joy, always laughing and smiling and bounding about.  I will run in the morning, work in the field all day, ride my bike in the evening, and then work in the garden until it is too dark to see.  In my opinion, a day where I spend more hours outside than in is the best kind of day.

Every autumn, I have this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.  It is not that I don’t like autumn…I do!  I love the bright autumn colours and pumpkins and apples, I love the crisp feel of the air and the rustling of falling leaves.  There is much to love about this season… But it is not summer.

In North America, it is typical to call autumn “fall”, and what a perfect term it is.  In some ways, it feels like I am losing hope, that I have missed something important, or forgotten something.  That first taste of wild apple cider on my tongue is bittersweet with loss.

A friend asked me if the Goldenrod is a going away gift to the bees before they die.

Well, we are not quite there yet, are we?  We still have two more days of summer, despite how the air smells and what my gut is telling me.

I suppose it is…

Maybe the purpose of this season is to teach us to appreciate senescence, that slow and noble aging of the year.  The world is still rampant with colour and life, if you know where to look.

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