Thus far, my thoughts on autumn are inconclusive. I don't quite know what I think but I don't like whatever it is. I'm used to continuous life; sunshine, grass, palm trees, colors and shades of life always sharing their joy with me. Flowers never die. The swimming pool is always welcome and the grass always needs cutting. Yes this sounds like an idealist seeing the world through rose-colored lenses but for years, this is my sense of reality; continuous sunshine.
Dropping back to United States in winter wasn't a problem. It was just an alternate reality. Spring was exciting, even magical as I saw the reality I know come back to me. Summer was a healing balm to my very soul. Now we have fall (autumn). I'm not sure what I think about that. Granted the sun still shines for the most part. Granted the leaves changing their colors is extraordinary, another alternate reality. But...I find myself grieving. There's a sense of finality about seasons. It's sad. Other's see the beautiful colors of fall. For me, it's like seeing everything I know and love...the trees, the warm weather, the weekend biking...die. I liked winter because of that foreign element, but I don't like getting there.
Right now, people around me hear my whinging about fall as I layer on more clothes then normal people consider normal. Perhaps fall will redeem itself as time progresses but as the chipper girl from Southern Africa...I may just whinge through it and on till next spring.
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