Holding on Tightly to Summer.

A few random vignettes about being present and not rushing around.

My very fluffy cat (VFC) has a knack for wanting to snuggle every time I sit down to get some serious work done. She’s usually on my lap, sitting just out of frame as I take work calls, unbeknownst to my coworkers. And she seems to sense exactly when I’m working on a tricky writing assignment, letting me know she’s doesn’t care that I’m trying to focus by standing on her hind legs and tapping my arm with her paw. *Pat, pat, pat*

Later, when I settle into the couch, ostensibly to write for fun, she makes a beeline for my belly, plopping herself contently over my arms as I try to type—making me look like a T-rex trying to figure out how to use a keyboard. That’s exactly what’s happening now. You don’t even want to know how long it took to type this paragraph. “But why not just push her off?” you may wonder. Listen, when you have a VFC purring, nuzzling your arm, and looking at you with utmost adoration, you don’t push her off. You be present, soak up the dopamine, and put aside whatever else you’re doing to be done...later. Likely when she settles in for one of her twice-daily 8-hour naps.

It was her birthday a few weeks ago. She got tuna and my undevoted attention, and I thought about how lucky I am that she and I get to exist in this lifetime together. Something about her is just familiar. I like to think she’s one of the ancestors.

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The farmers who I buy peaches from told me today was probably the last time they’d have peaches at our weekly market. Until next summer. *Sobs* With the departure of peaches and the arrival of apples, I can’t deny it any longer: The end of summer is fast approaching. And while y’all know I love all the seasons, this time of year—when it’s not officially fall but everyone acts like it is—always makes me a little sad!

The Tuesday after Labor Day hits, and I swear it’s like sitting in the passenger seat of a car where the driver steps on the gas and all the sudden you’ve gone from a leisurely 30 mph to an armrest-clutching 85 mph in a matter of seconds. Buckle up, kids: It’s time for back to school shopping! Busy schedules! Sweaters! Pumpkins! Halloween! But let’s be real, the driver of that car we’re all in? It’s capitalism, hurrying us along to the next “event” that can sell us something. And in this case, it’s fall, and holy moly are we bought in. Fall drives PROFITS, so of course humans rush its arrival. No wonder we’re not the best at being present.

Lest I sound like a grump, I do, like seemingly everyone else in this country, love fall. I’m excited for it! I even buy the pumpkin candles, ok?! I just don’t love what sometimes feels like the abrupt transition into it, especially when PNW summers are already on the short side. Can we just…slow down for a second? Ease in? Embrace the in-between? *Pat, pat, pat—just take your time*

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The trees are good at that. They’re not going from green to red in a single Tuesday. Their transition is more gradual. Chlorophyll production has started to slow down, resulting in some of the leaves on the tree in front of our porch turning from dark green to a light, almost white-green. Once the chlorophyll is gone, the carotenoids and anthocyanin (other types of pigments that cause fall color changes) are revealed, and those same leaves will turn orange. But we have awhile until that happens.

At the same time, the two maples at the end of our block started turning red in mid-to-late August. They’re always among the first trees to change, but they take their sweet time doing so. In a few weeks, as the nights rapidly get longer, they’ll be scarlet with hints of purple. And soon after that, the leaves will start dropping, completing a transition they started a few months before.

Meanwhile, there are tons of trees that haven’t even started changing yet. On a walk in the neighborhood yesterday, most of the trees I encountered were bright green and bushy. The dahlias are still gorgeous, and the lavender is still fragrant, even if it’s no longer blooming and covered in bees. Phew, I thought. Summer’s still here. Fleeting, but here. I’m soaking it up. Count me among the trees that will start turning in October. *Pat, pat, pat—we’ll get there*

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You know what else I’m soaking up? Late afternoons and evenings spent reading in the golden sunlight. I’m still working on recreating the long, slow magical summer vibe from my childhood that I wrote about last time. As the days get shorter, it feels even more important to make time for that. So, until I’m forced inside due to darkness and rain, I’ll be here, on the porch, or at the beach, eating late summer fruit, watching the trees change, reading something fun, and basking in this glorious time of year.

And by the next time I write, I’ll be fully, happily in fall’s grasp.

Hope your last week of summer is wonderful, and your start to fall is magical.

Until next time,

Elizabeth