From Where I Sit

By Pat Spilseth, Columnist

September 22 is the  official  beginning of fall. We’re enjoying maple trees dressed up in glorious reds, golds and oranges; the air is crisp, and our walks on leaf strewn trails are invigorating. Dave and I have been taking drives to view and savor one of the loveliest falls I remember.

In 2014 Barbara Crooker wrote “And Now it’s October.”

“the golden hour of the clock of the year. Everything that can run

to fruit has already done so: round apples, oval plums, bottom-heavy

pears, black walnuts and hickory nuts annealed in their shells,

the woodchuck with his overcoat of fat. Flowers that were once bright

as a box of crayons are now seed heads and thistle down. All the feathery grasses shine in the slanted light.

It’s time to bring in the lawn chairs and wind chimes, time to draw the drapes against the wind, time to hunker down. Summer’s fruits are preserved in syrup, but nothing can stop time.  No way to seal it in wax or amber; it slides though our hands like a rope of silk. At night, the moon’s restless searchlight sweeps across the sky.”

Cook’s words describe the month of October with word pictures we can envision. (Time “slides through our hands like a rope of silk.”) Though we’d like to bottle up summer days with a stopper, there’s no way we can contain time.

Aging also happens too fast: youth slips away before we’re ready to turn older. How we dread our bodies failing us with health issues. Birthdays don’t present us with the exciting joy they did in our  youth. Years slip by too swiftly, unless you’re a little kid who can’t wait to grow up.

In October, some of us are in the fall of our years. We can’t help but think about “what’s next?” What’s left of the dreams we’ve listed on our bucket lists? We might be thinking about downsizing our homes and what to get rid of. I hate to think about moving. Dave says we’ll stay in our home as we age and leave our house “feet first”…he doesn’t like thoughts of moving. Do I update my will? Do I begin to gift my valuables to special people in my life? Our kids have different life styles and aren’t sentimentally attached to our “treasures.” Our treasures will probably be sent to Goodwill or some thrift shop.   

It’s a melancholic time of the year. We bring out comfort foods like casseroles, meatloaf, scalloped potatoes and roasts. From the oven comes sweet smells of baking apple crisp, banana bread, ginger cookies and carrot cake. Fires in the fireplace are rekindled, and we settle in for long, cool afternoons by the fire with a good book. It’s time to rake the leaves on the lawn, which reminds me of a patchwork quilt with its many patterns and colors.

Time slips away. I still have questions I wanted to ask Mom and Dad  that I forgot to ask earlier. Why do we wait so long to ask the questions, to learn about our parents’ youthful lives and their thoughts as they aged? Perhaps we were thinking and hoping they’d live many more years or forever. Unfortunately, nothing can stop time.

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To contact Pat, email: pat.spilseth@gmail.com.