And just like that, it’s fall.
Temps have dropped.
The campground emptied out.
They drained the pool.
The locust-swarms of schooling families have devoured the supply shelves at WalMart.
The cliche is true. Fall is a season of change.
For some reason, at least here in Michigan, Fall slips into Winter, Winter melts into Spring, and Spring warms into Summer.
But Fall comes crashing through Summer’s window tied around a brick.
One week you’re swimming in Lake Michigan in the morning, putting the A/C on in the afternoon, and eating ice cream at 9PM. And it’s still half an hour before the sun sets.
Then the breeze shifts.
And you smell Fall coming.
That night you’re digging for the second blanket. The next morning you are switching on the heat.
Change is constant, yes.
But the rate of change varies.
And Fall cranks up the volume.
Kids off to school.
Trees changing color.
New projects at work.
But fall is also harvest time.
Pumpkins, squash, sweet potatoes, and beets. All gathered from the garden.
Produce doesn’t appear magically from the ground. Hours of labor get spent first.
This Fall is a big harvest for our family. Not from a garden. But from our years spent laboring together.
We recently moved Miranda into her new room. She couldn’t have found a more drastic change in living arrangements. After a summer living in a tent she’s now in an upscale suburban home with a view of water.
She’s been gushing about new-found inventions called “shelves”. And “closets”. And “cupboards”. And laundry that doesn’t require quarters.
She’s digging in.
Harrison is uprooting.
He’s counting the days until his YWAM trip to Australia. He’s getting rid of a vehicle, selling off musical equipment, and blessing others with gifts of items he doesn’t want to sell.
There’s also a sadness to Fall.
Behind the harvest?
Old roles die. You’ll never have an elementary student again. You’ll never have high-schoolers again.
The time for making summer memories dies. No more sweet, juicy bites of watermelon on a warm day. Gardens tilled under. RVs tucked into barns. Boats shrink-wrapped and parked on backlots.
For MsBoyink and I?
It’s our harvest season too.
We’ve spent years sowing. There are fruits to enjoy. We’re entering our empty-nest phase. We’ll watch our kids grow as adults. And we’ll enjoy quieter and more relaxed travel.
But there’s also that sadness. That death. Old roles, responsibilities, and habits will go under the mulch this Fall.
And yet, there is hope.
Hope for the next season.
I read this quote this week. It’s found either as a Chinese Proverb or from a Buddha named Padmasambhava.
“If you want to know your past — look into your present conditions. If you want to know your future — look into your present actions.”
We are taking action.
We have our atlas handy. We have Google maps open in one browser tab, and our calendar open in another. We’re adding waypoints to our hidden Google map. We’re making appointments. Checking off to-dos.
We’re sowing the seeds. And preparing for the sweaty Spring and Summer labor. Weeding. Pruning. Fertilzing.
Next Fall will be a new harvest. A different crop.
But that harvest?
It’s going to be so sweet.
What are you harvesting this year? What crops are you planning to harvest next year? Scroll down and leave us a comment.