The weather system in VA got the correct memo this year. On the exact day which marks the first day of autumn, the temperature changed drastically from humid-warmth to crisp-gentle-coolness. Bliss.

I am wearing my fuzzy shoes and my comfy hoody. The trees are beginning to brighten the view with oranges and reds, and pumpkins begin to decorate porches and store fronts. It’s time for apple picking, raking leaves, drinking pumpkin-spice lattes, wearing boots, and pretty soon, lighting the fireplace. I thought I wasn’t going to want summer to end, but now that it has, I’m feeling quite content.

My birthday is coming up in October, right smack in the middle of Fall. I must admit I hate the idea of growing old. I know, I know, first of all, I’m not that old yet, and also, aging is not necessarily a bad thing and I should probably embrace it gracefully. Except, despite my effort to happily accept the declining of my years, I still don’t like it. Other than having grandchildren (which has not happened yet) there is nothing that attracts me about the idea of growing old. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I’m scared of dying (I’m actually quite excited about the thought of spending eternity with Jesus), but I am very reluctant of being old.

So my favorite season comes with the yearly reminder of my proximity to old age. I guess it’s fitting. At the risk of sounding morbid, which I probably already have, I consider the fact that we can thank old age and death for the beauty of the season. Trees are in the process of dying. Leaves mature and change, and then… well, die. And somehow we all benefit from the amazing, exuberant, and vibrant colors they bring to our feasting eyes. There is beauty in newness, such as the incomparable beauty of spring blooms. Equally true, there is also a serene and cool adornment in autumn.

So even though I will more than likely not be very happy when my birthday rolls around and I turn 48, and all I can think of is that the big 5-0 is approaching, I will try to cheer myself up with the idea that aging can be gorgeous. I’ll enjoy every latte and every cup of apple cider and I’ll bring out my pretty scarves and… I wish I could say hats, but they flatten my hair. I’ll snap lots of pictures and take it all in.

Yes, I do feel quite content… at least for now…