The waning crescent moon is hanging over the eastern sky of Chicagoland early this morning. The sky is clear and the stars are crisp.
I’ve heard several people say the trees are having their best autumnal color show in recent memory. Only October can give us a wintry start to the week and an Indian summer weekend to follow. Forty degrees on Monday and near eighty on Saturday.
I’m letting the routine of life drive me from Point A to Point B and I’m not appreciating what October is leaving all around me. It will soon be November and Edmund Fitzgerald weather will arrive. The grays of November will have fallen over the orange, golden yellow and red of October.
The October wind crunches through the colorful trees, but the brisk November wind has only naked branches to dance across. The contrast of just a few weeks is noticeable every year.
These October mornings make it so hard to get out of bed. The cracked window lets in the remnants of what is left of summer and the reminder of the nearing arrival of winter.
In the time I’ve taken to type these paragraphs the sliver of morning moon has moved from the middle of my bedroom window to the top.
Two thirds of this glorious month are crossed off on the calendar. By this weekend the sun will be setting before six o’clock for the next several months and in a couple weeks we set back the clocks an hour.
Oh October give us one last glimmer of life before the colorless arrival of November and the coldness of the months that follow.
