Marking Time

It became noticeable yesterday when we were driving back from the grocery store to home at about 7:30 PM.

“The days are already starting to get shorter.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Look, it's almost dark and people have their headlights on already. Two weeks ago when we took our walk at this time it was much lighter.”

“Is daylight savings in October?”

“No, it's in early November this year—but gosh, it seems it's already here.”

I may not have noticed as much except for when I glanced down at my watch and made the association with our sometimes after-dinner walks. Usually in the Fall, it's time to bring the flashlight out to light our path along the dark road. It's nice to have these markers and it's not always the case and I often don't like looking at the clock—the time too much—but I can see it has its place to help bring a little order to the beautiful non-order of life—the sublime chaos and fractals of life.

See you soon, Dear Autumn.

Each day, I feel you pushing gently through that door a little more and a little more. Crackling branches; berry and nut collectors; cool chill gliding on wings of Father Wind blowing gently. Window blinds caressing against the window, going back and forth to mark the change.

Early sunsets and many more changes—quietude and solace wrapped into a glistening ornament of burnt orange purple and blood red.