my careless contagion

There is beauty in everything, even in endings, autumn reminds us. When we see the colors appear in the leaves, we say their color is changing. We say green is their normal color, but actually green is summer. Their true colors are revealed in fall when the chlorophyll drains away. What we see as a change is actually a revealing. What autumn means is we finally get to see what was under it all. In that way, fall is the most honest of seasons. Perhaps that is why I love it. Yes, it is that time again. Time for my annual ode to fall, my favorite season. I wish it wasn't so short in the Black Hills because the crispness of the air is intoxicating, though a bit unnerving because I know winter is not far away. I start to notice leaves changing in mid-August and by the end of the month, it's all around me. When September comes, the calendar says fall is still weeks away, but I know it's already here. There is a noticeable shift from one season to another, a moment when you realiz...

September is changes. Small at first, then bigger. By the end of the month, we hardly recognize you, September.  She begins when it is still summer. When she leaves, it is autumn. This year, when she began, I was in one place. When she ends, I'll be in another. To some, this may seem like a small change, but for me, it is big. It's bigger than the change in the air or displays in the shops.  September means the beginning of autumn. This autumn will be different from the last several. I'll get lost in it. Swallowed up in it. The leaves will change later. The snow will fly later, too. Last September, we had snow the first week of the month. Here, I don't know when it will fall.  September is my birth month. In grade school, I was one of the earliest to celebrate my birthday. I recall the school principal would come and give me a birthday card and how that felt. Surely, this man was the busiest man in the world, yet he came to wish me a happy birthday. What a wonderful mom...

If I could liken autumn to a woman (Autumn, is, after all, a woman's name), she is the one who leaves (an unintentional pun). She is in the fading phase of a relationship. She's still there, but she is also gone. Her beauty is more achingly sweet because you know your time with her is short. I have my own memories of a time like that (and she was truly beautiful as she said goodbye). I savor those memories because they are the last time I had her, if a man can ever truly have a woman. Because a woman can change like the seasons. You think you know her, but you don't. All you will ever know is she changes, and sometimes without warning. One minute you're walking together, and the next she's gone. Just the memory remains, and you ask yourself who will drive your soul . The only answer is the breeze. The chill on the air reminds you winter is on the way, and autumn is the warning. Winter is a cruel, yet beautiful season. Those who heed autumn's warning will surv...

I wrote this to pump myself up for winter.  True, it’s still technically autumn. But we all know it’s been winter in the Black Hills since, um, September. We can complain about the weather, or we can do something about it! Hmm. OK, maybe we can’t do anything about it. A wise man once said, “The best thing to do when it snows is to let it snow.” So let it snow. And let’s enjoy our winter wonderland — the Black Hills! Most of the tourists have gone back to their jobs and schoolwork, and the snowbirds have flocked to their warm winter playgrounds. Our streets are often barren and sidewalks often icy. Most shops are closed — but not all. Some may simply have reduced hours. And you can browse at your own pace. In fact, you can do nearly everything at your own pace. I took a jaunt down Spearfish Canyon recently, and it was a calm and relaxing drive. It was nearly perfect, as there was next to no traffic. If you don’t like being rushed through places, now is the time to get out and ...

Autumn. It is a season of contradictions. On one hand, it is the harvest season; it is fullness and bountiful goodness, a reward for hard labor. On the other hand, once the world has reached full ripeness, there is nothing left but rot. The leaves fall, the pumpkins cave in upon themselves, and the apple orchard smells like a brewery. But, much like life itself, while it lasts, it is pure magic. Autumn is my favorite season. I was born on the cusp of fall in September. September means a return to school. It's a month of great change. Summer is still beating down its heat when the month begins. The memories made over the summer still linger, but they're fading like our suntans as we sit at our desks in school and we look longingly at the playground equipment we assault just twice a day instead of the whole outdoors all day long we had just weeks ago.  The month ends and we fill bleachers to watch football games, blankets on our laps as the sun sets and the big lights co...