Something About Autumn


The skin around my thumbnail is dry, cracked and peeled. There are other little tags around other nail beds begging to be picked and pulled. Clear evidence that I’m not relaxed. Anxiety simmering just under the surface. This time of year seems to trigger unrest. 

The wind swirling in, plucking leaves from the trees and stirring the air with a brisk morning chill. The sudden shift of light, growing less and less bright and waking to the dark rather than sun streaming in. The dying down and flying off, leaving the yard empty and still. Realizing how all the meaning-making of summer has migrated away and slowly dried up. My attention wanders in search of a new home, but nothing stays long enough for me to connect. 

There is something about autumn that agitates my soul. All the fading and crumbling and cracking and peeling. The twirling energy and darkening chill. The lengthening shadows and exposed skeleton limbs. Signs that its time to put summer away. Trading in warmth for heavy layers, slowing and retreating into the den of winter. Then the wait for the first flint of warming light, the return of the Robins and sweet songs of life. It all seems so distant as I watch the world fade. There is something about autumn and its ephemeral way.