Shift

We went to the water park this morning; the last day of the season for 2010, the air was a brilliant clear blue, the sun was shining, and there were yellow, orange, and red leaves beginning to fall, swirling in the water along with the inner tubes.

Yesterday, we drove into the mountains of north Georgia to pick apples, and as we finished filling our bags, the skies opened up in a perfect example of a pop-up summer thunderstorm. Today, I cooked some of those apples for lunch, and tonight, I'll prepare fried okra for dinner.

Juxtaposition. Contradiction. Shift.

Two weeks after the vernal equinox, our weather changed abruptly from cold temperatures to hot. By mid-April, the daily high was averaging above 80°F. By the end of May, highs were in the 90s, and this summer (encompassing the months of June, July, and August) was the hottest recorded here in Georgia.

Now, at last, as we dip towards the autumn equinox, there are hopeful signs, however small, that a change is coming. Cooler nights with bright warm (but no longer hot) days, apples and sweet potatoes instead of squash and okra. Soon. I love the summer's warmth, but I need the autumn. I need its clear skies, its harvest, its careful end of growth. And, at last, it is whispering.

Shift.