It's late August here in Virginia, and I'm starting to see the first glimpses of autumn, and, as always, I'm thrilled. But not just because of the cooler weather, or all the autumn stuff, or cozy sweaters, and all that fun stuff. I love the changing of the seasons because it always feels like a little jolt that kind of forces me out of this stupor that summer brings on. I'm not entirely sure how to describe this feeling, but it happens every year.
The light is beginning to change. Everything is starting to look a little more golden. This is what delights me the most, and I never, ever get tired of it. There's something magical about this change, when the sunlight starts to feel less harsh, and more sweet. Do you know what I mean? We still have hot, humid, sticky days, but it's ever so slightly different.
There's a large oak tree right outside my office window, and today I heard a bit of a ruckus out there and looked out the window to see a whole bunch of squirrels scurrying across the fence and up and down the tree. They were squealing, and squeaking, and twittering, and making all kinds of noises I can't describe. I counted seven squirrels (!) as they chased each other across a large branch and down the trunk. It was cute, and entertaining, and made me wonder what they're all up to. Are they playing? Competing for territory? Is it mating season? Are they having fun?
This morning my partner told me he saw tadpoles in our birdbath a couple of weeks ago while I was out of town. I'm incredulous. Can this be true? Tadpoles? IN OUR BIRDBATH?? Why didn't he tell me? How did I miss this? They're gone now, in any case, and I'm left with so many questions. How did they get there? Why? Are they gone because they grew up? Or did the birds eat them? Did I accidentally pour them out when I cleaned the birdbath? I've never seen a single frog in our yard, and I'm gutted that I missed the tadpoles.
This time of year, I've noticed I have a tendency to analyze what I did or didn't do over the summer. I'm not entirely sure why, but there seems to be some kind of internal pressure to make the most of the warmer weather. Did I travel enough? Did I get outside enough? Have I enjoyed it enough? I never seem to be able to live up to my winter expectations, though. Winter weather sees me making grand plans for all the hiking, camping, outdoorsy adventures I'm definitely going to have just as soon as the weather warms up. I would have to take a four month leave of absence from my job in order to accomplish all the things that Winter Me plans.
This year I'm getting a little more intentional about letting go of feeling regret. I feel a ridiculous sort of pity for the Winter Me that had such ambition, but I don't want to lose her either. How flat and uninteresting would my life be if I stopped hoping for more adventures? If I stopped making grand and unattainable plans for indulging curiosity and traveling?
I'm not really sure where I was going with that. What I really wanted to say was I've actually had a pretty good summer right here at home, squeezing as much wonder as I can into every crevice. I took two very short trips this year so far, nothing really grand or impressive. But I've had plenty of interesting and amazing and wonderful experiences right in my own backyard. Literally, just outside my back door. That's what I'm here for. That's what this little newsletter is all about, really.
I remember reading something somewhere about how most of our lives are lived in the “in-betweens”. Weddings, childbirth, epic vacation adventures...those “peak” experiences are a very small fraction of our lives, and the rest is all the in-betweens. Like, your average, ordinary, nothing-special Tuesday, in which you wake up, have your coffee, go to work, et cetera, and nothing really spectacular happens. Right? The ordinary days all kind of run together, and the next thing you know it's November. We're all just trying to get through our days, waiting for Saturday, or the next vacation, or the holidays, or whatever.
What about today? What about right now?
I don't want my whole life to just be a waiting game for Saturday, or the next vacation. I'm not a future-looker anyway.
I'm committed to witnessing all the tiny miracles that happen every day. And not just witnessing, but allowing myself to feel awed by it all. It's all interesting, and wonderful, and worthy of my attention.
Thanks for reading my first post! If you liked it, please comment, and consider sharing!
Great 1st post! I am intrigued for more!