Fall

The angle of the sun is lower in the sky which brings a change to the quality of light that says it's Fall. The shadows on the ground are noticeably longer and the number of hours of daylight are noticeably shorter. The Autumn equinox is still two weeks away but the last of the summer visitors have come and gone with Labor Day and the kids are back in school. There's definitely a different feeling now, as summer tips its hat to the town of Friday Harbor. 

It's been a mere fifteen weeks since Memorial Day. The bookends of Summer, these two holidays. And this place, with its more northerly latitude, responds to the dates on the calendar with precision. Further south, September stretches out summer like a rubber band. But here, the leaves are changing color and there's a nip in the air as if a conductor has taken out a pocket watch and waved to the engineer it's time that the train of this season leaves the station. An improper metaphor for life on a small island. 

Let's think about boats instead. Even the color of the water churned up by the engines of the ferry boats plays along. It's a greener green than it was last week. The water shimmers in the bay as the ferry pauses in the distance before taking off in the direction of the mainland. The Sidney boat has made its short stop here and is back on its way again. The visitors on deck are quieter. A little boy waves goodbye to us as we stand on the dock. Fall is here and they're going home. It's late evening now and time to walk back home ourselves. 

The dock is vacant and the happy chatter of voices on the boats below has been blown gently away. Gone with the summer breeze. The air is crisp as Fergie and I walk up from the observation dock past a group of kids shrimping on the floating dock below us, their net dipping into the water, the bottom of their bucket filling with the gray brown creatures. "We've got a lot!" They say as we pass by. Fergie barks as if to say, "This is our dock, you interlopers." They laugh and go back to their shrimping. 

Winter's on its way, but first there's Fall. Fall in a small town that welcomes visitors all summer means potlucks and cozying in. Costume contests at Halloween and community dinner at Thanksgiving. Fergie and I’ve been here going on a year, the hour hand on the clock of the year is coming round to where it was when we started, just past ten o’clock. It's quarter past eight and when the clock strikes nine, Fall will be in full swing. Headed towards midnight, the darkest time of the year, but also the lightest. 

Soon Spring Street will be decorated with twinkle lights and the street lamps will be coming on as dinner time approaches. But for now, it's Fall. And best to savor this time. To let the season have its due. Winter will be here soon enough with its wind and rain and maybe even snow. The sun is lower in the sky and the shadows are growing noticeably longer. There’s a nip in the air and the leaves are changing color. In this place with its northerly latitude. 

© M.E. Rollins