(This post was written earlier in the month and has been sitting in my drafts folder. I’m digging it out today in hopes of encouraging some more fall-like weather—this past week has been hot!)
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Today feels like fall.
Yesterday, a thunderstorm pelted us with nearly twelve straight hours of hard rain. The lightening woke me up in the night, and for most of the day the ground was soft and slippery and full of miniature rivers carved into the dirt roads. I had to walk slowly on my way to my teachers’ meeting at school, to keep from sliding in the mud. Rain here makes moving around inconvenient, but my personal feelings toward stormy weather remain the same: it’s the best.
No rainstorm this morning…but there is a sharp, cool breeze blowing. All the windows in our house are open (we live in the last apartment of a fourplex, and so we have windows on three sides). I pulled on a cardigan and a pair of warm socks. Yesterday I had cooked a pumpkin, and today Wesley used the leftovers to make pumpkin spice lattes. The clothes hung on our line are finally beginning to dry in the slightly chilly air after yesterday’s downpour. On the path that runs outside our home, the neighborhood missionary kids throw on light jackets and bike up and down. Friends come by to borrow carrots for vegetable soup, or to ask if I would like another pumpkin (the answer will probably never be no).
I know that there are not “seasons” here, in the American sense. We are in one of our two annual rainy seasons, and as we get closer to Christmas, things will become increasingly hot and dry. But today, I am experiencing fall.
Thank you, God, for the crisp beauty of this day.