I Don't Really Know Why

Fall makes me restless.

Perhaps it's all about the dying of summer--that shifting, that evolving, or more likely, that sense of waning manifested in every spent leaf. At the unstoppable cruelty of the cool weather creeping in, snuffing out summer's heat. Maybe it is this which makes me dissatisfied with my life. My fears becoming physical.

It's just a guess, though. I don't really know why.

I do know it makes me do bad things like pack up my house and pick fights with Hubby. It makes me want to run away and leave everything behind, to flee to places south, where things stay perpetually green and in bloom. Places where I can wear my flip flops in peace and less is always more when it comes to one's outfit.

It's not that I don't love Fall. It's bewitching, this time of year-the kaleidoscope of colors, that satisfying crunch of leaves under my feet. (When else are you allowed to tromp on the past so gleefully?) The orchards bursting with apples so plump and ripe they just fall off the branches into your palm. Or the trees ornamented with dented buckets,hanging heavily from taps, dripping with maple syrup. The familiarity and traditional, this rightness of time passing, that is Fall. It just, it makes me restless.

It's an important time of year for me, when everything important has ever happened to me. It is when Hubby and I married. It is when both my sons were born. Everything in my life, that has defined my life, has happened in the Fall.

But I am digressing; this is all beside the point. What I mean to say is a few more weeks and enough leaves will fall, the canopy will disappear, and I will be able to stand on my front lawn and see the powder blue sky which has been hidden from me for months. (I use the term front lawn loosely, however. As grass refuses to grow in so much shade, in reality it is more a patch of mossy, heinous-looking dirt. But I'm digressing again.)

I am restless. And I feel impatient, I want more important things to happen. I itch for them, waiting for my life to turn all scarlet and yellow and cinnamon brown like the leaves out front. Waiting for things to fall to the ground and reveal something above me.

It's this that makes me restless.

The innate knowledge that things are changing. Down to the bottom of my toes, I can feel it, almost tangible and throbbing and perhaps real. I can feel it. Things are about to change.

Consider this a warning, and a wishful promise.

:)


Happy Fall, everyone.

(a shout out to Miss F-I'm bouncing important emails...)