Between Summer and Autumn: A Seasonal Wander for Listening

Autumn is approaching, but summer isn't finished yet.

The days still hold warmth. Gardens are still overflowing. There are tomatoes ripening on the vine, bees moving between flowers, and long evenings that invite us to linger outside just a little longer.

And yet, if we pay attention, we can hear another song beginning underneath the fullness of summer.

A leaf loosens its hold. Seeds begin to form. The morning air carries a different coolness. Birds gather and move differently through the sky. The light begins its slow shift.

Perhaps this is one of the gifts of the turning seasons: they don't happen all at once.

There is a threshold between summer and autumn where we can experience both—the fullness of what has been growing and the first whispers of what is ready to change.

We don't have to rush toward the next season. We can linger here. We can receive what summer still has to offer while beginning to listen for autumn's invitation.

What is ripening in you?
What still wants to be savoured?
And what is beginning, quietly, to loosen its hold?

For a little while, we can simply stand between seasons and listen to the conversation between them.

Here is a little something for your heart…

When Late Summer Kisses Autumn

by Carolyn Riker

A late summer sun speaks softly
with shadows for us to see
these moments
lingering lushly over languid layers
whispering
into the speed of summer’s slipping
even pinecones notice the gentle hum

The medicinal quality of cooler days
unfold a cloud speckled mountain top
and the dust settles quieter
next to a mouse’s twitching whiskers
uncertain at the chilly breeze
who scampers underbrush
weaving its way through tall brownish grasses
pressing its tiny footsteps
into summer’s end and autumn’s birth

The once exhilarating lavender is bent and spent
now greyish purple florets graze the tired earth
its sleepy idleness still feels like a queen
while the weeds create an architectural
windblown glass-like dances
with a chilly breeze

Why this is such a magical visitation
when the sun sets earlier each eve
and the mornings remain
an unstirred cup of espresso
waiting, wanting, willingly
undressing the courage, it takes
to be holy, holy with the in-between

Wander: Between Summer and Autumn

For now, you don't have to choose between summer and autumn.

Go outside and wander with the intention of noticing where the seasons meet.

Feel the warmth of summer still held in the earth. Notice what is still green, flowering, ripening, buzzing and full.

And then look for the quieter signs of autumn: a leaf beginning to change, seeds forming, a cooler breeze, the first fallen leaves, birds gathering or moving differently through the sky.

Let yourself linger in this in-between place.

You might ask:

What is summer still offering me?

Then, without rushing ahead:

What is autumn beginning to whisper?

Walk slowly enough to notice that perhaps they are not separate at all. Summer's fullness is already becoming autumn's release. What has ripened is beginning to return. What has grown is beginning to give itself back.

See if there is something in your own life that is also somewhere between fullness and release. You don't need to decide what comes next. For now, simply wander the threshold and listen.