…it’s beginning to look a lot like fall. But it still feels like summer. I am starting to see splashes of color on the trees and a few leaves scattered here and there in the grass and driveway. When I look outside, I see the branches of the trees being pushed and pulled and twisted around by the wind. If I close my eyes, I can picture myself walking down the old dirt road where we lived when I was a teen in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. I pull the sweater a little tighter, trying to shield myself from the chilly fall air. I would deliberately walk on the crunchiest leaves I could find. At the end of the road, I would turn around and walk briskly back to the old stone house. When I open my eyes I find I am looking at the thermometer on the patio. It’s nearly 80 degrees. “Oh, well,” I sigh. Time to start running my errands. I slip into my flip flops, grab my purse and head out the door.
