Transitioning Bites

Even my scarecrow has decayed!

I know that most people welcome fall.  After all, who doesn’t like Harvest Festivals, crisp air, pumpkins, and Halloween?  It’s a welcome change after the long hot summer, especially in the Deep South.

But there is a moment, a few weeks actually, where all I see is transition.  And it’s one I don’t welcome, not one tiny bit.

My beloved garden goes into a death march.  It quits producing.  Plants keel over, seemingly overnight.  And here in the South, it’s still warm during the day.  So I’m outside, staring death in the face.

Dead Daisies

Today, with my husband’s help, we weeded and tucked in our Peony bed for the winter.  The plants are long burnt and even decaying.  They remind me of the darkest part of winter; the part without gardening and sunlight and hope.  We buried them in cardboard and straw and prayed for their resurrection.

Joyless gardening:  Tucking plants in for the winter

I have always been a child of summer—of light, heat, and intensity.  I have no patience for transitions.

You can remind me of toasty fires and hay rides—of mums and pansies and hard cider.  But my heart is still sick about this whole transition business.  I am already missing the daylight, and the promise that warm summer days always bring to the farm.  Daylight Savings Time?  Don’t even get me started.

In a few weeks, I will adjust and reluctantly embrace fall.  But I need a little time to mourn what is lost until next year.  I’m sure I sound morose and some of you may be questioning my state of mind.  That’s ok.

Sunshine and color?  Bye-bye!

There is a season for everything. Yeah, yeah, yeah.  It’s this transitioning thing that really bites.  Hard cider, anyone?

Anyone else out there feel this way about early fall?  I’d love to hear your comments.

Marianne M. Smith
Writer At The Ranch
Making You Look Brilliant One Word At A Time
http://writerattheranch.com
wordsmith@writerattheranch.com