The Chinook

We have a foolish way about our senses. They can see, smell, hear, taste something that makes the observation clear; yet we are so inflexible in our opinions.
Take for example the weather. It is August 30 today. The Chinook winds blew two weeks ago bringing the cold air with them. I was outside when it started. the breeze picked up and within half of an hour it was steady and the leaves were shivering from the cool steady wind running in from the west. From the rockies having made it’s way steadily across the midwest like a town cryer shouting out before Autumn, “MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY! SETTLE IN! SETTLE IN! START YE’ HARVEST BEFORE THE COLD WIND BLOWS!”
And just like that temperatures dropped and every day since has had the scent of decay on the wind. Decay of the leaves starting to turn, decay of the tree roots digging in a bit deeper into the soil to brace themselves for the permafrost. Animal skitter faster and are no longer sun bathing, but frantically trying to store and ready their young.
Yet.
We rage against the obvious. The writing on the wall. The scene before our very senses.
My 4 year old has defiantly lived in a rotating menagerie of bathing suits since the Chinook blew in. Her proverbial middle finger to the inevitable. We shiver in our shorts most days and pair them with a hoodie. We keep the BBQ rolling out hot dogs and hamburgers. We keep the lemonade bottles full and the margarita mixes empty in hot headed adult tantrums that for us northerners… the sun is setting earlier and he is coming. Jack is coming.
He left me a love note on my windshield yesterday morning. One of his finest films of foggy dew. He’s here already having followed in on the Chinook’s heels. He’s practicing. He’s mocking us as we sip our poolside beverages through a straw… with a blanket on our already whitening tanned legs.
This time of year always reminds me how resistant humans are to change. I shake my head as people rant and tantrum against what’s coming on social media and in check out lines as they hurry to purchase the last batches of Summer Shandy. They act like this is all new. Like having survived last winter gives the a “get out of all winters future” card.
I shake my head because it shows just how silly we are.
Change is inevitable. Seasons are inevitable. Leaving the 1950’s behind is inevitable. Our Earth shriveling away as we destroy it is inevitable. Electing a female president is inevitable. The shrinking of the white minority and the destruction of Whitopia is inevitable.
Winter IS coming.
Fall my friends, calendar official or not, is here.
The Chinook winds have blown.
The leaves are changing color and it is beautiful.
Color is here.
On our leaves, and in our country.
 
Stop wearing your bathing suit and grasping onto your margarita for dear life. Put on your sweater and dive into the leaves. Change is beautiful.

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