You know how I know it’s fall? Yes, the weather’s gotten colder, the days are shorter, and the leaves are turning; not that hard to figure out. However, even if I were trapped in a room with no windows, I would probably know just from the changes in body and mind.

1. I feel like listening to classical music, with opera being my first choice.

2. Hot green tea sounds better than a cold beer.

3. I want to eat soup.

4. I have the urge to buy fuzzy slippers.

5. I want fire. Put the incense away and light the candles. Lots of candles. MUST. HAVE. LIGHT.

Even though I hate fall – I mourn the loss of summer the whole of the year until it’s return in June – my body and mind are responding to it on their own. I live above the 45th parallel, so fall is usually early compared to the lower 90% of the US – this year it swooped in on September 3 – and decisive. On September 2 it was 90 ° and sunny. On September 3 it was 60 ° and raining. Just like that, the switch is flipped and the long descent into winter has begun. This time of year I want to pack up and head to Australia. It’s Spring there, you know. Lucky dogs.

I try to be a good sport about it. I avoid complaining every minute of the day, not only because it doesn’t help and makes me feel worse, but also because my friends and co-workers are aware of my hatred, and don’t really want to hear about it anymore. I come home and don my fuzzy slippers, make some tea and sit in my living room suffering in silence. The cat doesn’t like it any better than I do, though, so I can complain to him once in a while and know that he is totally sympathetic. He has taken up his winter position on top of the sofa, so I know he and I are on the same page. We’d both rather be outside in the sunshine and warmth, frolicking in those wonderful balmy SW breezes.

Oh well, it’s not to be. This is Michigan and this is September. Two seasons here as far as I’m concerned: Summer and Waiting for Summer. We have begun the 9 month period that is not summer. Pack up the shorts and the sunscreen, break out the wool and boots.

It’s just not fair. Neither, though, is the devastation in the south from Hurricanes Gustav, Hannah, and Ike this year. So today while I’m sitting here drinking my tea watching the soft rain fall outside and listening to the cat snore behind me on the couch, my thoughts are with those who are suffering the loss of their comfort, too, in a much more profound way than I am. Cold temperatures, falling leaves, and snow are small burdens to bear compared to what much of the world endures from Mother Nature.

It could be so much worse, and is for so many. Bless you all.