Swift changes in the weather still catch me by surprise. You would think by now, having lived in *insert area here* for as long as I have, I would understand this,and yet each year at the change of season I'm caught totally off guard. A week ago there were industrial fans blowing all over the house and it was still close to 90 degrees, and this morning I woke up with an icy shoulder where the blanket had slipped down in the night. The munchkin is disturbed by this as well. Twice this week she has come home from my girlfriend's house complaining that she'd not been allowed to go swimming in the lake because it was too chilly. Many of the local kids are starting back to school next week, and munchkin herself will begin preschool shortly after that. Preschool- are we really at this point already? I remember pushing her around town in her stroller pointing out every puppy and kitty we passed along the way as she burbled and squealed, and now she's watching Discovery channel films about dinosaurs and repeating the names for me in case I missed them. Incredible.
I don't begrudge the passing of time- on the contrary, I'm generally ready to get on to the next thing. What I do find myself brooding about is that on any given day I'm so wrapped up with the little details that an entire month can pass by without me having taken a moment to look at the larger picture. I like to see progress in my life, and when it's the same wash/rinse/repeat day in and day out it's easy to get depressed over "not getting anywhere". It's not so bad right now, but when winter rolls in and there's nothing but gray skies and white landscape for days on end I'll need to conciously plan "evaluation" times so I'm not steamrolled by the seasonal depression I already struggle with.
In the meantime, though, fall is starting to creep in all around, and I'm relishing every moment that I can. Yesterday while driving home from a late afternoon at work I rolled the windows down to soak up the cool freshness of the air smelling of evergreen and damp earth and the occasional hint of wood smoke. I passed a small garden with one enormous pumpkin peeking over the rest of the greenery and made a mental note to see if friends from Large City to the South would be interested in taking a trip to a pumpkin farm later in the season. Recipes for scones and stew and spice muffins work their way up from the recesses of my mind, where they'd been relegated until the weather was no longer too hot to work over the stove, and if all works out well today I think I'll make a batch of flatbread before it's time to head to the library for our weekly sojourn.