I thought Steve was crazy two years ago when he told me that fall begins in August. I thought he was being overly optimistic, looking forward to the end of landscaping season which by August 1 seems long and hot and difficult. Fall seeding is a great time of year, and the lawns he lined up in the spring lay out there to be knocked out one by one. There’s less selling, the least fun part of the business.
But he was being literal. This year, after the 3rd coldest July on record, it was still noticeable, the change in the air come August 1st. On August 2nd I woke up and looked out and over the prairie, already changing from purple to yellow, there was that solid bank of fog rising out of the wetland and hovering over the prairie.
It was the beginning of autumn.
There will still be hot days, and sun, enough hopefully for me to get a small tomato harvest. But in a flash the prairie peaked and is subsiding, and in the morning now there’s a white film on the neighbor’s soybean crop that is dew, not frost, but looks like frost. Today I wore a jacket for my one-mile morning ride to work. Still, there are sunflowers and bees and peas and beans and zucchini every day. And the days themselves are still long, even if Steve says they’re mercifully shortening.
It’s fine with me, actually. Autumn is my absolute favorite season. It can come early and stay as long as it wants.