Summer is almost over

Summer is waning. The nights here in the Pacific Northwest are cooling down, and the leaves are starting to turn color.

It's an odd thing about fall here. In the Midwest, the leaves turn color and fall in a short period of time, usually three to four weeks. But one good stiff breeze over a day or two can knock pretty much all the leaves off the trees in one fell swoop.

But here, although the color starts to appear, the cycle of color and, well, falling, can last for three months. Fall lingers, gently guiding us to the cold bleakness of winter with a warm quilt of color to warm our memories.

I have always loved the autumn, because it means the start of school. One of the things that makes me happy about having children is that it gives me a place in the order of the year for me to celebrate new beginnings in the fall, instead of in the spring, when nature celebrates the beginning.

I love the cool, crispness of a fall morning. I even like the soft rain that falls here in the fall, so different than the driving, chilling rains in the Midwest. Those do come in late November, but by then we are focused on Christmas and winter, so I can complain about the winter rains, pretending it's still not autumn.

I love the odors of fall -- the smell of a school, newly sharpened pencils, pungent burning leaves and the spicier smell of wood smoke from chimneys. I love the sounds and smells of football on a Saturday afternoon or a Friday night. The smell of leather jackets and wool. All these feel like new beginnings.

When I was in school, I saw the start of school as a time of new beginnings, to make new friends, to reinvent myself, to enjoy a kind of rebirth.

Maybe as a Christian, I feel that tug of new beginnings. Martin Luther chose a day in late fall to deliver a death sentence and new life to the church when he posted his 95 Theses on the day before All Saints Day. And as the year reaches an end, we anticipate the birth of the Savior, instead of the death of the year.

Whatever the reason, I think of fall as a beginning, not as an ending. So here is to new beginnings, whatever they may be.