As fire season draws to an end, my favorite temperate season begins. I love the fall: the crispness of the air, vibrant foliage, the comfort of donning forgotten knits, and Halloween candy. This year’s fall, however, holds a hint of spring, as if a chocolate bunny surfaced in my bag of treats.
Now, I’m not referring to spring’s weather patterns, clothing choices, or cleaning agendas. Instead, consider what spring symbolizes, its essence. Spring gives birth to everything from blossoms to farm animals. It is exciting and fresh and beautiful. In the Northwest, where I grew up, it meant waking from hibernation to take action with renewed energy. That’s what I mean.
The arrival of fall cannot be ignored. Days are shorter. Clouds linger on the horizon. Soup always sounds delicious. And everywhere you go you are surrounded by gourds. For me, it also signifies the ability to set my flight helmet aside, and the luxury of silencing my cell phone at night. Yep! that unfamiliar freedom I associate with fall has returned.
Instead of hunkering down this year—in anticipation for winter—my engine revs. It’s like a rush one might feel after escaping from prison. My surroundings feel foreign in a way that makes me pay attention to details, a way that allows gratitude to permeate any situation. A number of tanker bases this year felt like prison—if only for 9 to 14 hours of each 24. In a matter of days, I will have moved beyond the preparation phase and have scaled the walls, free to nurture the flowers that exist beyond entrapment.
Perhaps I am not alone. Perhaps you have morphed your seasons too. Please share in the comments section below if you have found spring in your step this fall.
May we each find our golden egg this season.