I wandered in and out of the Kickingbird Square shops one day this week, not tempted by anything they offered but enjoying the displays. “Just looking,” I told maybe half a dozen shopkeepers whose merchandise very likely would have tempted me on any other day. This time I was soaking in the fall colors displayed on their shelves ... admiring this year’s version of Halloween decorations ... appreciating the sameness of witch, spider, black cat and Jack-o-lantern, but with subtle 2012 differences in style ... reacquainting myself with the summer’s giving way to autumn in its never changing dependability.
The reality of a coming fall began to seep in last weekend when I ordered a pumpkin spice latte at Full Cup Bakery & Café on Second and Fretz streets and drank it at a little bistro table out front. There was something in the air that day. An eager anticipation of a new season. It smelled different. It felt different ... a vague promise that made my heart beat faster and urged me to prepare to receive it. Could it be the same promise that urged my backyard squirrels to fill out their store of acorns against the coming cold? It was a day perfect in every way ... but I was glad I’d worn a jacket.
I should have known it was coming. My friend the lawn man came last week to spread fescue, and later to lay down fertilizer and broadleaf weed killer. Fine little green hair-like leaves sprang up where the fescue seeds took hold, and more joined them by the day until a veritable carpet now covers the bare spots where the summer’s unremitting sun bore down scant days ago. This morning the porch thermometer registered 59, another reason to welcome the changing season.
Next week I’ll call the A/C man who added coolant in the spring, to come check out my heater. Soon my friend the yardman will winterize my sprinkler system, and my mechanic will winterize my car. I’ll bring out the fluffy comforters that Su-the-dog and I snuggled up in last year and vainly attempt to lure Saber-the-cat to join us, and I’ll put the soup pot on to simmer.
On the downside, if Halloween comes — and the shops at Kickingbird Square indicate that it will — then leaf-blowing time can’t be far behind, but I’ll worry about that when the time comes. Now I’m off to the grocery store. Maybe I’ll pick up three or four pots of those big beautiful mums I saw there earlier. I will for sure follow my fat squirrels’ example and restock the pantry.
MARJORIE ANDERSON is an Edmond resident.