Some cosmic hand had dialed back the celestial burner for the moment and there actually seemed to be a vague hint of fall in the air. So I ignored my trashcan and kept on walking, down the block, around the corner and alongside a lake that can be found at the back of my subdivision.
Poets often play around with the seasons when musing about aging and death and fall is that period when we are in decline – the green leaves of youth first turning lavishly red and golden before wilting away in the early days of winter.
Phooey. I love autumn. The chill of the season is invigorating, the perfect remedy for the torpor brought on by the heat and humidity of summer. People actually become willing to leave the sanctuary of their air conditioned homes and, well, do stuff.
There are fall festivals, fall fairs and fall trips – gee Harv, let’s go to the mountains and look at the leaves and pick some apples. There are fall clothes and fall holidays – the boo fest we call Halloween and the food fest we call Thanksgiving.
And, hallelujah, there are fall sports, which is to say there’s football. And in the Land of Cotton, football – especially college football – is often a religious experience. And let us all say Amen!
In fact, toe meets leather for the first time this season on Saturday, when our Bulldogs go up against the Ragin’ Cajuns of Louisiana-Lafayette between the hedges – trust me, it’s a Georgia thing! A week later, the calendar might still read summer, but the vibe will be full-blown autumn-ee as Georgia travels to South Carolina to do battle with the Gamecocks!
Still not buying the rejuvenating juju of autumn? Then ponder these two words: Fall Classic. For months, baseball has moved along at a snail’s pace, the natural rhythm of America’s great summer pastime.
But when the temperature starts to drop and the days grow shorter, baseball becomes serious business for a few weeks in late September and early October when, finally, the champs from the American and National Leagues do battle. This bit of Americana we call the World Series and, I do believe, the series has come to be known as the “Fall Classic”.
So remember. A little morning chill means that once again the leaves will be changing color soon and the Dawgs will be at home between the hedges. All the rest is commentary. And let us say, Amen!