The Last


Fall always feels like the end. There’s nothing I look forward to about the fall. The conversation around my house right now sounds something like this:  

“I’m going to farmer’s market to get the last strawberries.”


“This is the last day to go barefoot in the boat.”

“We should go out camping one last time before it gets too cold.”

the-last-1-1“Let’s harvest the last of the apples before they rot.”

“That’s probably the last tomato that’s worth eating for nine months.”

“Today’s the last day I can bike to work without needing lights.”

If fall has some redeeming quality for the rest of you, do let me know. This is the last post where I’ll moan about it…


11 thoughts on “The Last

  1. I can try to summarize the glory of fall in one moment of the day today. I was at my desk at work and a flash of color caught my eye. I looked up and the trees outside were literally glowing with color. I headed outside to get a better look (along with a couple other folks from the building). Behind the trees the sky was the dark dark grey before a sudden rain. A ray of sunshine had broken through, illuminating the red and orange of the changing trees. The moment was fleeting, but it changed the whole flavor of the day.

    I have met some lovely, yet somehow tame summer days. I prefer a tempestuous fall day. Even the ones where breathing in is something akin to drinking rain.

  2. What about the fungal blooming? The calming of the winds at the beach and the growth of the waves? The trees changing color. The birds flocking elsewhere. the salamanders trekking to ponds, transforming and breeding. The satisfaction of warm tea contrasting with the cold. Snow. Icicles. The heartfelt appreciation of handmade gloves, hats and scarves…. Time to slow down and recoup

  3. Fall begins my hiking and camping here in SW Missouri. Summer is too buggy and humid. Fall cuts back on ticks, chiggers, snakes and people. Winter is even better. Leaf-off isn’t as alive as a verdant spring, but it opens up the bigger views around the river and creek valleys. Trails go from emerald tunnels to places where you notice an old dilapidated homestead off in the woods that you missed before, etc. Also, campfires are more appreciated, same with heavy car-camping type foods and morning coffee.

  4. Bah
    Hate fall
    Yuckity yuck
    Wind blowin the wrong way
    Everything start dyin
    Bones be creaking
    Two three sweaters and still the chill goes right through ya
    I’ll follow that white haired wild man hippy into the winter
    Cook him over a spit
    On a hot bed of coals
    Next to the gravel
    On the lakeshore
    And throw a crab or two
    Onto his wiggling bicycle legs
    And spring?!?
    Darn bugs and allergies
    Now ya got me started you ol
    Sewing geezer!!!

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