There is still a month of summer left on the calendar but those who have seen sixty years of seasons come and go can detect the approach of fall. The A/C in the bedroom has not been turned on for two weeks. This week the temperatures were in the sixties in the mornings with an early fog that burns off by 8:30 and allows the sun to warm the day to normal summer levels. The fog is just a gentle reminder that September is coming. Last week I saw a small flock of Canadian geese making a low pass over the field. It was just a test run but I know what is on their minds.
An early warm spell this spring pushed the season ahead two weeks and we've been ahead of the game all summer. Our first corn was ready in mid-July and peaches ripened by the end of July. The August canning rush was here before the month arrived.
With everything we had going on in May and June, it seemed the summer was half over before it began. The pace of other activities slowed just enough to allow for the annual canning ritual but even that was limited this year because I overdid it last year and need to use up the leftovers. I need to make one batch of pizza sauce yet and then canning season will be over for me. I do not need any pears and the grapes weren't sprayed so they retaliated by not producing anything. Canning usually stretches into September. I don't know when (if ever) I finished canning before the end of August.
Are all these signs of an early frost and a long winter ahead? I hope not. I wouldn't mind if this kind of weather lasted a couple more months. April, May, and October are my favorite months of the year. Spring and fall both have their own beauty but I think the spring months win because it is the beginning of more good things to come. October is bittersweet. We savor each lovely day because we know there will not be many more before the long cold winter sets in.
The older I get, the less I like winter. But I'm not that fed up with the season to be ready to join the snowbirds in Sarasota, Florida. That's too far from all the things and people I love. For me (and all my ancestors back to colonial days) the sun always rose and set in Pennsylvania. I'll stay here, thank you, and enjoy each season in its turn.