It's almost imperceptible - at first. One whole minute in the morning..another whole minute at night. Two full minutes each and every day. The days grow shorter. The light shifts.
For so much of life - this change-in-season is marked by external events and happenings. The endings of one..the beginnings of another.
As a young child - mid August was always met with the end of time spent up in the lakes and parks of Northern Ontario. The scent of the tall pines. The feel of their soft needles carpeting the paths on which we walked. The azure blue of the lakes as they reflected back the colors of that vast expansive sky. The sound of the water as it met the shore. The morning skinny-dipping..the canoe-tripping..the cry of the distant lonesome loon. It was a time for gathering around those last campfires and savoring the last of those marshmallows - perfectly roasted.. It was a time for bidding adieu to this summer..with always the promise to return again.
As a young mother - this time of year was always noted as the beginning of the end. The end of lingering in those days of unstructure. The time to start re-organizing and re-focusing. As my childrens' long summers drew too quickly to a close..the attention turned to the new school year up and coming. New clothes and shoes..haircuts..books and all other necessary supplies. It was always a mix of sweet and bitter. This time in late summer when freedom was soon to be displaced by regularity and routine. When the days that had been full of precious time spent together..were soon to be filled by something else.
And now - without all the other - it's all about the light. About days that grow longer..and then shorter. About the seasons. One that transforms and melts into another. The external indicators and guides are not as near..nor as visible as once they were. Other than the calendar date - there is nothing to demarcate the differences of one season's end and another's beginning. Life's rhythms and rhymes depend on nothing other than the time counted between the sun's rise and its set. The length of the days. The light.
Yes..it's mid-August. And I'm not - yet - prepared or ready to let it go..to admit that summer is - once again - too quickly passing. But - as I watch the light..as I bend and stretch and reach..as I grasp at its last gasp - I know it's fading. Time is marching onwards..just as it has and always will. This season's sunshine and warmth will fade into another..and another after that. Each - offering its own particular gems..speaking its own language..providing a different point-of-view and perspective.
For today - I pause..if only for a moment. I look and listen and I see. The bouncing light intrigues and enchants. It reminds me of what is true to this season only. Its bounty. Its beauty. Its spellbinding splendor.
It calls out..and beckons.
It invites me to dance.