HAVE you noticed? All that melodious bird song is beginning to wane. Cheerful bird chirping can still be heard, but it is getting less and less. All those birds quickly dipping their little pointy beaks in and out of the shallow birdbath water, encompassing the rim of the bowl they are diminishing, arent they.
I am preparing myself to be caught while driving in one of those huge bird migrations, in which, even though it is irrational, you see the sky darkening with the multitude of birds flying en masse their wings flapping in unison almost like one synchronized movement and you duck inside your car. You pull over to the side of the road because it feels like they will crash into your vehicle.
In the spring this happens as a sign of the onset of summertime, but now it is their migratory departure. They flock onto their aerial journey to the Southern Hemisphere, signaling the end of the season.
And what a season it has been. Summer, that time of year when it feels like there is actually more time.
Time for doing fun things like excursions and adventures and making glorious sun filled summer memories.
Time for riding ferries at amusement parks, picnicking, biking, getting wet running through sprinklers with children, jumping waves, and applying and re-applying more and more sunscreen than you care to as your cheeks keep collecting light brown patterns of polk-a-dot freckles.
THE air is making room for fall. You can feel the shift. The light is of a different quality, the air is ever so slightly crisper. As someone who has always loved autumn, too, I am looking forward to the charms of colorful crunchy leaves and the warm drinks and scented spices that autumn has to offer.
All around me, though, I am hearing everyone lament the end of summer.
Except for the children, of course. Because even though they would rather be on summer break than in school, they have that excitement of entering school one grade higher, one year older.
They are still at the point when getting older is a good thing. Unlike for most of us, grateful as we are for another year and obviously recognizing with deeper awareness the blessing of each passing year, we also understand the meaning of one more year.
And for that matter, one more summer.
Of bikes and dogs everywhere.
Of popsicle molds.
And of tomatoes, basil and corn that taste like no other. Farmers markets with warm pita breads, clusters of berries, chilled kamboucha tea tastings, ripe juicy peaches and colorful wildflowers.
And fresh cold watermelon drinks, of course.
So heres to summer, 2013. Au revoir, summer; and bonjour to you, fall.
Copyright © 2013 by the Intermountain Jewish News