My Take: By Gordon Lambie

My Take: By Gordon Lambie

By-the-book types will argue that summer doesn’t officially end until the federal election is done, but the trees know better.
Granted it’s not all of them, but one in my backyard turned itself red one day and then dropped every sad little leaf the next, and I can almost hear the others whispering about it amongst themselves.
Sept. 22 is only ever the first day of fall on paper.
These are the weeks of, “how did we get here so soon?” and suddenly seeing your breath at night.
Normally it would be fair time right now, which should be nice to think about but is also kind of mournful this year.
There’s a lot I like about the fall, and quite a number of things I don’t much care for in summer, but right now we’re in-betweening, which has its own sort of strange charm.

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