I’m not sure what ushers in the end of summer. Some may say when the school year is back in session and that the weather changes, but here school starts in August when the temperatures hover in the three digits.
I guess the end of one season and the beginning of the next isn’t one thing but, many. Like the days grow shorter, my morning walks are cooler, and the second cup of coffee tastes even better than the first.
The end of summer is marked by out last fly-fishing trip, just as the cusp of leaves are turning and the cool nights increase with each passing day.
And with the dimension heat, our neighbors’ chickens, begin laying again – lucky for us.
And the mornings are no longer punctuated from the constant hum of my office fan.
I don’t really know where the demarcation of summer ending and fall beginning truly is except on the wall calendar. I do know that I welcome the change from one season to the next, moving forward enjoying the moment until next season arrives.