Alas! Come fall, things need to be done. Leaves need raking and jumping in by kids – before wind stirs the brightly colored piles, hurling them about, making them swarm. Dry sticks need stacking, putting up for winter to keep us warm. Yes, things need doing.
In my youth, the rituals were simple, no big feasts at “equinox,” just readying winter stocks, our busy mother cutting, canning, and freezing, last crops hauled, last loons called, something in the air that said: “Hurry up, get her done, winter is coming, son!” So, we kept our pace, each day shorter.
Here, too, began cross country for those who ran, a thousand steps and more, foot plants where snow would fly and lie, summer jobs, summer fun, summer gone, no goodbye. Cherries, tangerines, and lemon leaves popped this time of year, then turned leathery brown, slippery on the ground.
Come fall, things need to be done. Hoses, faucets, and lines needed draining, decks – or in our case just odds and ends – needed staining. Things that might blow, freeze hard, or just get lost, needed collecting, putting under cover before the frost.
Mountain ranges exploded, ebbed, and flowed like rainbows, an aurora borealis, hard summer feet got smooth by school, no longer tough and calloused. The forest went from all green to a fruit bowl, alders crimson in the evening sun, birches banana yellow, maples pumpkin orange, pepper red, glowing embers, then to bed.
Frost appeared on the meadow, all that stiff, still-green grass uncut. We awaited snow, and the school bus too, hands in pockets, collars up, shifting toe to toe. At school, we learned and wondered, sometimes dabbled in writing.
Evenings, we had homework, dived in to get it done; that’s how things were, you did what needed doing, chores before fun – math, reading, geography of Thailand, then Gilligan’s Island.
Indoors, we readied seeds for birds, knowing they hunted for food in the snow. We piled sand for traction underfoot, made room for junk, and put cinder blocks in our car’s trunk. That gave us weight on ice, coming up a hill, kept back down, front still.
Yes, come fall, things need to be done. Snow tires do not change themselves. Plow blade and shovels needed to be ready, windows tight, loose things hammered up or taken down, no frog and insect sounds, only cardinals, chickadees, and evergreen trees.
Well, it is that time again. Looking back, one can almost smell the past, something comforting in rituals. Leaves change. We prepare for holidays, Thanksgiving, Christmas, and hope – living in a kaleidoscope. It slows one down, makes you look around, recalls the age of wonder, when we had time for a string of rhyming lines. Alas!
Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, Maine attorney, ten-year naval intelligence officer (USNR), and 25-year businessman. He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (North Country Press, 2018), and “Cherish America: Stories of Courage, Character, and Kindness” (Tower Publishing, 2024). He is the National Spokesman for AMAC. Today, he is running to be Maine’s next Governor (please visit BobbyforMaine.com to learn more)!
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