Gina Long
Gina Yells at Something
I wonder if Mother Nature took note of my umbrage over her most recent hot spell, because we finally caught a break after three solid weeks of upper-nineties temperatures.
I woke up on Thursday to the tinkling rain sound on my windows. I jumped up, opened the back patio door, turned off the AC, and invited the rain smell in.
Most importantly, I made the season’s first cup of tea. Tea and the arrival of the state fair signal that fall is finally here, and that the ridiculous sizzling summer temperatures are now seen in the rear-view mirror.
Autumn is my favorite time of the year. It’s not too hot. It’s not too cold. Bring a jacket.
Cloudy gray skies tell us that the natural world is slowing down. Frantic squirrels and birds prepare for the colder days ahead.
Cool, crisp breezes rustle falling leaves, which drop after brief bursts of brilliant color. College Grove, Hyde Park and Countryside host nature’s annual arboreal art show.
The sun rises a little later and sets a little sooner.
The evening breeze is slightly cooler, carrying hints of impending colder weather.
The state fair is here. The noise of thousands of people gathered on the fairgrounds, concerts and laughter and midway shrieks roll over Main Street. Evening concerts drift into my College Grove neighborhood.
I attend the fair at least two days each year, more if time permits, indulging in foods and goods that are either only available at the fair or just seem better because I bought them there. Pronto Pups, for example, cannot be ordered on Amazon, which makes an annual pilgrimage that much tastier.
At home, my mobile phone signals lag like it’s 2012, and my internet service buffers with the increased state fair usage. The upside: carving out a perfect 10 days to read those books I ignore the rest of the year.
I start switching out the summer T-shirts and light clothing for long-sleeve shirts, more fleece and sweatshirts. I make sure my jackets and winter coat are close by, and my gloves are matched up.
Like the squirrels and birds, I wait for the cold to descend and settle over the land.
Autumn is the quiet time between busy hot summer days and intense holiday preparation. It is the pause before the frenzy, before holiday shopping and card writing. It is the palate cleanser after summer’s cooling lemon zest and before autumn’s warmer, earthier flavors of nutmeg and cinnamon.
Some people like spring cleaning. I prefer autumn nestling. I find decluttering my summer clothes easier when the sun sets earlier, a football game plays in the background, and my favorite tea blend is within reach.
Autumn is a great time to go through backlogged papers, deciding which to keep, which to scan and keep digital copies of and which to feed to the shredder. It seems that the more society goes paperless, the more papers I have to wade through.
I winterize my car, making sure that I am stocked with blankets and electric hand warmers, a small shovel, and a small bag of sand for icy spots. Growing up in western Nebraska and spending time visiting my grandparents in western Kansas taught me the value of being prepared for winter travel.
I winterize my house, double-checking pipe insulation, draining garden hoses and stocking up on ice melt.
As I write this, I hear the last concert song of the evening wafting in from the grandstand, and think about how the fair will move off until next year. I think about the leaves preparing to fall, the coming of the gentle autumn thunderstorms and rain, the cool afternoons and cold nights, and my steaming cup of English breakfast.
Gina Long is the co-founder The Hutchinson Tribune, a reference librarian, a Smallville Festival organizer, and a history nerd. She can be reached at ginalong.ne@gmail.com.