Summer has a way of preparing us for its embrace, yet leaving its everlasting mark on us. We wish for its arrival, yet hate to see its disappearance. For us left bitter by the cold of winter, it’s the warmth; for those left pale by the lack of sun, it’s the tan. For me, as an outdoorsman, the arrival of summer means fresh color, fishing and the freedom of short sleeves.
But today, as summer shuts its door and fall fades in, I tie on my Bean Boots with pride. Flannels and plaids find their way in as shorts are left behind. The crunch of crisp and colorful leaves will soon resound across the countryside . Colorful scenery will dot the trails; the reds and the golden hues.
As cooler days set in, I’ll spark a wood fire and remember where I’ve been. Leaning back in my chair, at the bluish flames I’ll stare. My smile will spread wide, I’ll drift to a warmer day. The leaves falling beyond the pale blue glass, these are the days I’ve waited for, they’ve come at last.