This week I feel like autumn has arrived. Last weekend gave us hot weather; this weekend is deliciously cool in comparison. I love that feeling when you step outside and literally drink the cool air. We're not quite there yet but still, walking out the door is refreshing and revitalising. It's telling me to prepare for winter.
The sunscreen, sunglasses, sunhats and anything else prefixed with sun has been hidden away (except for our suncatchers) and replaced with gloves, hats and scarves. We also have to say goodbye to the actual sun, as we watch her creep out of bed later each morning to peer shyly through the morning mist before slinking across the sky to search for warmer climates far south of here.
Transition is always exciting, as it promises new and exciting adventures. Autumn and winter bring thoughts of jumping into piles of crunchy leaves, the cosy warmth of a roaring fire inside, Halloween, snow, smashing through icy puddles, new stories and songs, Hugo and Charlie's birthday, Yule and Christmas, yummy food....
Also, I get a nostalgic thrill out of leaving for work in the dark, fixed to a surprisingly complete childhood memory of trying to force down Weetabix whilst watching the stars disappear one-by-one before we left for a family holiday.
Overall, autumn is a time where we begin to close in upon ourselves to sit-it-out through winter. The house is slowly being tidied and decorated with berries and leaves in anticipation of many hours spent inside. Wood is being stocked for the woodburner. But one thing is leaving me a little agitated. If summer is all about spending time with friends, then winter is all about spending time with family. This comes at a time in our lives where we are thinking about schooling, or not schooling. And, of course, the purported advantage of school is the friends. So, if we find this winter difficult, does that mean we abandon the idea of not schooling? I certainly hope that doesn't happen.
So, the excitement of autumn contains both anticipation and anxiety, as all transitions should.
Also, I get a nostalgic thrill out of leaving for work in the dark, fixed to a surprisingly complete childhood memory of trying to force down Weetabix whilst watching the stars disappear one-by-one before we left for a family holiday.
Overall, autumn is a time where we begin to close in upon ourselves to sit-it-out through winter. The house is slowly being tidied and decorated with berries and leaves in anticipation of many hours spent inside. Wood is being stocked for the woodburner. But one thing is leaving me a little agitated. If summer is all about spending time with friends, then winter is all about spending time with family. This comes at a time in our lives where we are thinking about schooling, or not schooling. And, of course, the purported advantage of school is the friends. So, if we find this winter difficult, does that mean we abandon the idea of not schooling? I certainly hope that doesn't happen.
So, the excitement of autumn contains both anticipation and anxiety, as all transitions should.
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