Autumn is a second spring where every leaf is a flower.
Sitting here this morning, I am overlooking the garden, full and at its summer zenith, and dreaming of fall. I am always ready for the next season to begin way before it's time. Maybe it is just that we've had such a busy summer and now I feel ready for cool weather, apple pies, and walks sprinkled with falling leaves.
There is also the feeling of rejuvenation that comes with fall, a feeling of a fresh start, the beginning of work again after the fun and play of summer. A feeling one should be sharpening their pencils, collecting tablets of paper, and getting their backpacks in order.
It is always surprising to me that I have such a strong sense of this "back to school/work" feeling when I was homeschooled for most of my life. But perhaps that is the precise reason that it has such a strong pull for me; it is so imagined in my mind that it now has a life of its own.
Whatever the reason, I am excited for fall to begin and am already making plans for myself. I have joined a writing group, my first class is next week, and I feel like it is just the motivation I need to take writing more seriously. Sometimes I feel as though I am in a bubble, being at home with Babou so much, and can't quite get the perspective I need to move ahead. I maintain a status quo, if I am lucky, and bumble along. I am looking forward to collaboration, time devoted to myself, and a feeling of possibility. I am really going to try to make some strides to becoming a better writer this fall.
Babou is calling me, letting me know my time is up, and that I must continue on with my day. I have been trying to let her help me more with the things I do because she really wants to. My nerves are suffering though. She really likes to crack eggs and knows how to open the refrigerator now. Yesterday, after we had made eggs for breakfast, I found her in the kitchen having cracked every single egg we have into the frying pan. She looked very triumphant. I looked horrified.
This is how it goes and I am trying to maintain a zen exterior but every time she prunes one of my plants to an inch of its life, pulls up a flower instead of a weed, or helps me crack all of the eggs, I have to say I become more and more...unnerved. Patience is not one of my virtues, and I think God knows this. We are practicing, I guess.