Seasons change

September 1 sounds like fall, even if it's not, really. Even if it's 90 degrees most days this week, the days are shorter, the nights longer, foliage a bit duller and more colorful.

I welcome fall, as I welcome most every change of season. How dull it would be to live in the tropics or in the Arctic, where seasons might loosen their grip but never change.

I cannot remember noticing seasonal change when I was a child, except that I welcomed the arrival of summer with the end of school and dreaded the return of fall and start of school. Only in college, where I could not help but notice the burst of color on campus trees as the weather chilled and then the blossoming of the azaleas and dogwoods and cherry blossoms all around campus, did I really notice and appreciate the gift of seasonal changes. When I worked in Washington, D.C., the arrival of autumn meant the departure of tourists, the easing of traffic and the disappearance of the smog that could be so thick I could not see the Potomac River from my office window six blocks away.

When I bought my first house, the blossoming shrubs and trees in the yard gave me a greater appreciation of the property, and the cool breeze as I raked leaves made the autumn a sensory feast.

Now I welcome each seasonal change, knowing that my enjoyment of these changes is limited; I have seen more seasons change than I will see in the future. I hope my thankfulness for these changes has been sufficient and my appreciation matches the enjoyment I felt.