It’s a sad day …
I put my flip flops toward the back of the closet. I stood for ten minutes looking at my closet, forcing myself to accept today’s brutal reality.
It’s time. I can’t put it off any longer. I reach into the closet—to an area I haven’t visited for months. My hand runs over the tops of the hangers positioned on the lower bar. I pause, stroking the fabric. Oh, how I hate this day.
Long pants … today I must wear long pants. I’ve been able to wear capris day after day, week after week because the warmth from the sun had caressed my legs and arms. Arms—I need to wear long sleeves, too! Ugh, can it get any worse?
Oh, this is a sad day.
Driving to work, I had to turn on the heat instead of the AC. I flipped on the defroster to dry the heavy due on the windows from the cool night air. Wipers wipe. Warm air bellows from the vents. And the need to turn on my car’s headlights makes it impossible for me to ignore it … summer is over.
Pulling into the parking at my job, a quick movement catches my eye in a grove of oak trees. Walking toward the trees, I stop, noting the movement is accompanied with chattering. Two—no three—squirrels were scampering around and around tree at break-neck speed. They seemed oblivious to my presence. It was as if the cool morning air had invigorated these little fellas into a raucous game of tag. If I had walked any closer to the trees, I imagined I could see them smiling.
In that moment, I stopped, reflected over other cool mornings when Dad and I watched squirrels scamper through the woods. In a flash I remembered the smells, the feeling of the heady due, and the comfort of the long sleeves.
When had I become so enthralled with capris and flip flops?
No, today isn’t a sad day after all—it’s the first day of the season I wear long pants. And it’s the first time in a long time I’ve been blessed with a memory that reminded me of simpler times.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens Ecclesiastes 3