That First Crisp Fall Day

The drought is getting to me.   Deadness, dryness, stressed plants and trees, oppressive heat (and I grew up in south La., so I know oppressiveness in climate), triple digit temperatures as the norm... It just seems so endless right now.   I worry about farmers who just want to make a living and hold on to what is usually family land and a way of life that has been passed down through generations.   My children are outdoor children and they are getting a little cabin-feverish.   Okay, a lot.   Plus, I hate to add up the amount of money we've spent on Happy Hour 1/2 price drinks at Sonic this summer.

So my thoughts are going even more passionately toward that place where they usually tend to wander around August and September: that first crisp fall day.   One of the most glorious days in existence.   On that first crisp fall day, I shall:

Walk with a spring in my step.

Let my children pick anything they want for breakfast.

Open every set of blinds and set of thermal curtains in the house!!!!   I shall fear 3-5 p.m. no longer.

Bake something deliciously fall-ish that will fill the house with aromas of cinnamon.

Take my children to the park where the equipment will no longer carry a burn hazard.

Eat lunch out doors.

Thank God -- for relief, refreshment, and His glorious rhythms and seasons of life.

Okay, so this is not what fall LOOKS like in these parts, but it's what it always FEELS like to me.