this changing season

I can almost feel the earth moving and tilting a little bit away from the sun. I've never been so aware of the changing angle of the sun nor have I been so aware of the lengthening night resulting in the ebbing vitality of the garden and a kind of let up in the summer frenzy. There's a deep sigh coming on. As if the earth and the life which inhabits it is saying, "ahhhh, let's take a breather." I don't really know what is going on on the farms locally. Harvesting of pumpkins, and the last tomatoes, the last squash. That's all we have in our raised bed in terms of vegetables. The marigolds still glow. I planted some sturdy deep red chrysanthemums. There are roses still on the bushes. But they are the late arrivals. The thermometer reads 44 degrees this morning which for us is definitely sweater/fleece vest weather. I'm reminded of other places in my life at this time of year: visiting my grandparents and their bay front property in Maryland, sitting with freezing hands in a boat with 8 college women on Briones Reservoir at 6 a.m., waiting with cold legs for the bus in North Little Rock Avenue at the bottom of Park Avenue in my school uniform, waiting for the bus in Riverside California to go to jr. high watching Jesse make out with his girlfriend, sweating in my clothes at school because what was appropriate dress that morning was now too warm. So many autumns spent so many places after almost 52 years. I'm wondering if these memories aren't easier to access because this time of year does invite that breather.. time to stand still in this kinder light and to notice.