My Favorite Season

It was full dark when I walked around the block this morning. Daylight savings doesn't end for another five days, and the sun isn't even on the horizon at 6:45 a.m. The only light is from the streetlights.

These lights shine through trees that are within days, maybe hours, of losing their leaves. They hold onto their flamboyance for one last moment before a gust of wind comes from the south and swirls a mini-tornado of their brilliance into the air.

This is my favorite season.

I stand for a minute and watch the leaves jump and dance, then walk on.

In three hours I will be packing Pearl and leaving for the big city a full state away from Small Town. Late tonight the Boys and Lovely Girl will step off their flights there, and Husband and I will be waiting to welcome them at the airport. Tomorrow we will be swept up in the final preparations for the Wedding of the Century, and while I am beyond words with joy and excitement, I want to stand here for just a moment and watch the scene unfold.

It is a strange and wondrous feeling to be at the intersection of my ancestors and the first new family among my descendants. These swirling leaves are so individual, so beautiful, and make such a glorious symphony together.

This is my favorite season.