on autumn

So now that the calendar says I'm allowed to talk about fall (being odd to do so in the middle of Summer), I think I will. Just because it's been on my mind a bit, especially since it smacks me in the face most mornings as I walk to class. Not so much the "season" of fall - I mean, ok, every year there's this thing between summer and winter when everything stores up and prepares to survive. This happens a lot more dramatically in places where there is actually a real winter. Here in TX there are still four seasons (or maybe two?) If you go with the four seasons idea we have Almost Summer, Summer, Still Summer, and Christmas. The two seasons argument is that it's either Damn Hot, or Not So Damn Hot.

But I digress. Even in this warm place, where late September highs of 95 are not unheard of, it is still unquestionably autumn. Yesterday as I was walking back from class I stopped to watch a squirrel. Actually several of them (campus is a bit overrun). Though they are scrawny little red squirrels, and not furry grey ones like I grew up with in NJ, they still know. They still scutter about, digging things up to bury pecans and acorns. These also have a penchant for dropping pecans on your head as you walk under the trees. But they're still getting themselves ready.

The sun is different too. It's softer, even in the heat of the day, and more yellow/golden. Mornings are crisp and bright still, but the air is stronger and refreshing at 7:45 when I'm walking to class. Late afternoon cools off sooner, and the autumn light on the trees (even if they're still green) is quite a sight. Walking has seen a huge change too. Most of the 200+ miles that I've walked since April 1 have been outside in the summer - and now, I find myself not needing the two quart jug of water just to get through a 2.25 mile (or 4.5 mile if I feel like doing two laps) excursion. It reminds me also of marching in High School with the band - the friendships and fun (and sweat and hard work) that really started to congeal into a presentable and enjoyable show around this time.

I have been a student for almost as much of my life as I can remember. Though I have memories that run me back from when I was two and my brother wasn't around yet, those are more sporadic. Starting school, though, was a big enough change that I remember vaguely doing so. And I have continued to do so - every fall, beginning anew with books and binders, loose leaf notebook paper and a new package of pens. For me, even in the fading fall light, there is a sense of optimism, of freshness. Settling down to study something with the window open, watching the light change. It's a sort of renewal - a cleaning out of old things, broken pens and clutter to settle into studying again. I find myself more restless to clean now too. The world gets ready for winter, and I suppose, in my own way, so do I.

This is my last semester as an undergraduate student. Come January, I will leave behind that life for a little while, as I get other parts of my life situated, and begin the search for graduate school. But still, even as much as I'm ready to be done, ready to get on with things - I will be sad. The 5 year old in me will have to reconcile the fact that next fall there will be no new pile of textbooks, no new binders and pens. No homework done in fading evening light with the windows open.

Maybe I should take some classes at the local college...