The drought is getting to me. Deadness, dryness, stressed plants and trees, oppressive heat (and I grew up in south La., so I know oppressiveness in climate), triple digit temperatures as the norm... It just seems so endless right now. I worry about farmers who just want to make a living and hold on to what is usually family land and a way of life that has been passed down through generations. My children are outdoor children and they are getting a little cabin-feverish. Okay, a lot. Plus, I hate to add up the amount of money we've spent on Happy Hour 1/2 price drinks at Sonic this summer.
So my thoughts are going even more passionately toward that place where they usually tend to wander around August and September: that first crisp fall day. One of the most glorious days in existence. On that first crisp fall day, I shall:
Walk with a spring in my step.
Let my children pick anything they want for breakfast.
Open every set of blinds and set of thermal curtains in the house!!!! I shall fear 3-5 p.m. no longer.
Bake something deliciously fall-ish that will fill the house with aromas of cinnamon.
Take my children to the park where the equipment will no longer carry a burn hazard.
Eat lunch out doors.
Thank God -- for relief, refreshment, and His glorious rhythms and seasons of life.
|Okay, so this is not what fall LOOKS like in these parts, but it's what it always FEELS like to me.|