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  • Writer's picturebreanneamosher

The Changing of The Seasons

The light is shifting. It's dark still when we get up and the streaks of light wake up the house slowly as the children make their way from bed to the table. The sun sets earlier and earlier. There's a definite chill in the air and every day we watch the trees turn a little more golden.

I see the orange pumpkins from my kitchen window, their bright colour a pop amidst a tangle of vines. There's a tiny butternut squash that finally grew just in time to look cute for an autumn tablescape unless we get a lingering summer before the first frost. The autumn season is short in Alberta, a fact that I've mourned after spending eight glorious seasons in the East where the trees are a riot of colour and Autumn lasts for three wonderful months.

The season shift is subtle here, small changes, tiny treasures to look for and experience with all the senses. The pulling out of sweaters for evening walks. Borscht made with zucchini, carrots and beets from our garden. Requests for favourite soups replacing lakeside picnic suppers.

School days and routines replace the carefree schedule of the summer. To be honest, we were all ready for the shift. The pulling back of bedtimes and checking subjects off lists before play and free time. The shifting of seasons in our family is just as subtle, if you're aware you can see it. Our recent camping trip showed us that we're on the brink of a whole new season. We have no little kids anymore. Fires, hiking in the woods, exploring and setting up the campsite is a whole different game now. Our kids bring us such delight.

Their sense of humour is changing, their understanding is different. One school morning held a discussion on how Katniss Everdeen illustrates The Peace of the Wild Things. The movies we watch for family night are different. We can all enjoy Rings of Power or All Creatures Great and Small. But some things remain the same and probably will until they move out. Mondays are for Poetry Teatime, the treats may be bought or made but we pause for thirty minutes for tea and treats and poetry just like we have for the last six years. We still read aloud, some of the old favourites that my girls enjoyed when they were younger finding a fan in my son. Some are new titles to all of us and none of us knows what will happen in the next chapter.

I'm fully aware that these are the happy, golden years and I see the light in every day even if I have to hunt for the sparkle some days.

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