That light at the end of the tunnel that was so dim and distant is getting closer now. The season of being outside and active and busy with the good things of life is coming to an end - I can feel it now. The last of the summer's fruit is ripening in boxes and is awaiting its next transformation into chutney and sauce and just plain canned fruit.
All those green tomatoes we picked in a frenzy before the first frost are turning a beautiful hue of red and making their way into passata, pasta sauce and maybe even a tomato leather.
The last football game of the year was played by my oldest, and we witnessed the evolution of a bunch of individuals into a cohesive unit fueled by camaraderie and a common goal.
I can feel that soon it will be time to return within, refuel, and settle in to quieter times. Time for contemplation and dreaming...time for holding those little ones close for just a wee bit longer...time to inhale and renew for the next trip around the sun. Days will still be full, but I'm optimistic that the number of things that will require my attention simultaneously will be fewer.
Yes, there still is plenty to do...gardens to be cleaned up, winter clothes to be retrieved while shorts are quietly tucked away until next summer, a general all-around cleanup of the things that have been pushed to the side while we tend to more immediate needs. But I can feel, perhaps out of hope, that the pace of life will be less frenetic. I wonder if my children will feel it too, that final "ahhh" of the summer and the beginnings of the first in-breath of autumn. That will be something to tune my senses into and chat about over a warm bowl of chili. We talk much about the physical things that change around us as the seasons change, but do they feel it in their bones? In their soul? Yes, my curiosity is piqued. I look forward to seeing what comes of that conversation in the days and years ahead.