It’s September now. 2023 may register in my mind and body as the fastest year I’ve experienced. I went out to get coffee and a pastry yesterday morning, and I noticed the leaves on one of my trees while still green, have some brown around the edges. I also saw the tiniest bit of yellow leaves nestled in green leaves on a tree outside the coffee shop. And I saw one defiant completely red vine of some sort of creeping vine in some vegetation in a bend in the road. This all after a week of high temps, high swamp-ass humidity, but intensely overcast days. It’s a bit like the weather is willing me to be more open to Fall hurrying up and being here. Because I haven’t been.

September first, in the morning, we’d dipped to the low 50s. It was crisp, and while I was stoked to open the windows and enjoy fresh air with the slightest refreshing chill to it, by the next morning, I was concerned. 

I visited the north shore the first time in a January. The place we stayed had frozen pipes while we were there. We were unpleasantly bundled from head to toe walking around the little town to get coffee and a bagel and check out their little book shop. I wandered to a beach nearby and walked along it. Wind biting at the tiny bit of my face that was exposed. But it was beautiful. And so very peaceful at a winter beach. I don’t remember if no one else was actually there or not, but I didn’t notice if they were. I decided then and there that I’d move to this place. Not quite 4 months later, I was here, permanently.

Last winter was a haze of long covid complications, repeated other serious illness and generally being unwell enough, it wasn’t advisable for me to socialize indoors much and certainly not without a mask. And just half a year into being here, I didn’t know anyone to socialize with unless I went indoor places to meet people. So, other than trips to see my kiddo or bestie, I hermitted hard. And I picked up on some differences between cold winter here and cold winter in Utah. Here, it’s grey for weeks on end. In Utah, the sun is gone when it’s stormy but comes right back out. I’m honestly not sure when things got dark or light in the winter in Utah, but here the darkest, shortest days were dark just after 3:30 in the afternoon. Short, short days, no sun, and sometimes genuinely bitter cold and windy. If it wasn’t stormy or I wasn’t sick though, I got a walk in to my beach nearly daily. And it was just as peaceful and glorious as I’d experienced in the beach a little farther in from our north shore visit. But it was a very long, very isolated winter. So I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me, that my initial reaction when I realized Fall is beginning was that of a slight panic. I’m not ready for the long winter.

Cue hot, swampy, overcast days … mother nature helping me out a bit 🙂 So here I sit on a Sunday afternoon, candles lit, skies dark all the windows open so I can hear the hard rain pounding down outside and the sounds of the traffic on my road. The air slightly cooler than it’s been all week. And with the week, and the hints of Fall on the leaves, and a craving for soups, hearty breads, and an increasing desire to snuggle in blankets, I think I’m ready. Supposedly last year, Fall wasn’t a “beautiful” one because of the drought. This year we’ve practically floated away on rain. I’m ready.