It rains when I drive home Monday night, so hard I have to squint, lean over the steering wheel to see around the curves of the road that winds beside the water.

All day Tuesday it’s gray, and cold, and the leaves that are turning fast now are limp and sodden. The house is chilly. We have to run the furnace at night.

But the clouds that greeted me when I woke this morning are all gone now, and the sky is spotless and the sun warm. I hang laundry on the line and feel the sun on my face and realize the grass is long.

There are beans still on the small bushes.

Yesterday it felt that winter was just around the corner, breathing down my neck, but today he’s retreated.

All the curtains are open wide to let in the light and I can watch the thermostat creep back up, though the furnace is silent.

Today it feels like another late-summer morning.

There are just a few scarlet leaves scattered across my tall grass, but the red of the mum between golden marigolds catches my eye from a block away. I want to plant more of them. This one came back from last year.

And the sunlight pours over all of it and I want to sit in it, unmoving, soaking in it while I can.

I pull socks from the line and they smell of sunlight and I wonder how many more times I can do this before the seasons change again?

Tonight my sheets will smell of summer and I’ll dream of summer and the weather forecast says I can enjoy it for the rest of the week.

I’m not looking farther ahead than that.

Because it’s October and the world around me is changing overnight but this change I like.

A little bit of summer sun is welcome anytime.


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