Sweet late October

Where I grew up in the American midwest, fall and spring were fleeting. They were glorious seasons in which everything happened all at once. In spring, everything bloomed within a two or three week period. It was like an explosion of the life force, slightly unnerving (at least it was for me). Likewise in fall, the leaves turned quickly, all at once, then dropped en masse. Unlike spring and fall, in the midwest summer and winter drone on and on.

One of the things I love about the midatlantic landscape is our lengthy spring, our lengthy fall. Both seasons stretch out luxuriously over a period of three months, gracefully unfolding. It's possible here, if you get out and about often enough, to see every gorgeous seasonal change.

In the midwest if you have a busy week at work, you might miss most of the spring bloom, most of the leaf color, but not here. Both seasons go on and on. We who live on this swampy plain are very lucky.

Right now, close to the end of October, is a particularly exquisite intersection between summer and winter. It's no longer hot, but not yet blustery. The days are warm enough that we can still wander around without jackets, and the nights are only slightly chilly. The leaves are slowly turning beautiful shades of gold, orange and red, and gently beginning their graceful fall to the ground.

This morning there is a soft rain. It's warm enough to open the windows. I can feel the soft air, hear the beautiful sound of falling rain. It's not a hot rain, as we have in summer, not a cold rain like we'll experience beginning in December. It's the perfect autumnal rain, melancholy, but not sour. Autumnal rain is bittersweet.

I love fall. Shalom.