"Another glorious, Indian summer day!" I smiled to myself.
Listening to the news while driving to work, I heard the weather forecast. "Rain this afternoon, with the possibilities of thunderstorms. Be sure to bring an umbrella." Disappointment washed over me, not about the rain per se, but the inevitable change of seasons.
Fall is my favorite time of year: the color, the cool crisp air, the rare scent of burning leaves, scofflaws claiming this tradition as their own. But now, with the arrival of this storm, cold air is on the way, bringing the hint of an impending, and inevitable, winter.
Perhaps it's due, after all. With the election season over, the change of season, too, seems right, as if everything is in some mystical alignment. Time marches on; nothing lasts forever. We make our plans for the upcoming holidays and we make our plans for the future. Life goes on regardless of the surrounding circumstances. With that reminder, I believe that all is as it should be. I find myself content, today, in spite of the storms on the horizon. I shall bring my umbrella with me and prepare to weather the coming storm, one of many challenges with which I am faced.