The giant 50 year old oak trees in our backyard have begun to shed. Leaves, leaves, leaves everywhere. Mabel revels in this time of year, tromping and skipping through piles. Especially the piles neighbors so carefully line on the curb for the leaf-truck to pick up, she really makes a mess of those when we walk.
It's an odd time of year. A time when geraniums are still struggling to make their final stand, shooting the last of their red flowers into the cool air. The elephant ears behind the house are still a glorious green against the browns and reds of fall.
The herb garden finally gave up the spearmint and basil, but the pineapple sage and rosemary have grown taller and fuller, dozens of red flowers sprouting from the top.
We've already begun to see days full of rain, orange leaves floating in puddles and coworkers sniffling and sneezing up and down the hall. After all, it wouldn't be a true Thanksgiving season without someone catching a cold.
As the holidays approach and travel plans are made and rain boots piled next to the garage door, I'm going to try my best to appreciate it all while it lasts, to not get so caught up in my work and commute and 'I hate that it's dark when I get home now' complaints. I'm going to try my best to spend time watching the leaves fall, to laugh when Mabel roars through a pile and emerges with the biggest doggy grin. After all, just like our beloved Christmas and birthdays and summer vacations, fall only happens once a year.