I had a déjà vu moment yesterday morning. November is typically a comfortably warm month here in northeast Florida, but a cold front in the region had the temperatures dipping into the upper 40’s overnight. (Perfect for sleeping, if you ask me, though Thom was happier after I put the down comforter on the bed. But I digress.)
Thom had gone off to work pretty early, so when I got up, the house was quiet. Looking out the French doors, I saw the trees moving in the breeze. Stepping out into the lanai, the sunshine, the smell, the unfamiliar crisp, cool temperature and the sound of the rustling trees suddenly hurled me back through time, first to my “Cabbage” (my CABin in the woods and cottAGE on the lake) where fall is the most beautiful time of the year, and then back even further to when my kids were small and the chilly autumn air meant leaf raking, playing in the piles, and noisy laughter. Memories of colder seasons; beautiful backyard snow drifts, ice rinks and neighborhood kids, feet stomping snow off boots, rosy cheeks and a fire in the fireplace…it all came rushing back in a moment that simultaneously brought grateful tears to my eyes and a nostalgic smile to my face.
I miss those time. I miss my small children’s laughter and raucousness, though I would never have believed it at the time. Because when you’re a young mom and in the midst of it all, it can often seem overwhelming, never-ending to the point of just wanting that Calgon moment to take you away from it all.
But it does end. Life moves on. And those small children become bigger children, and then they move on to become adults with their own lives and their own small children. Do I want to do it again? No, way. There is a time to every season.
But it all began with a déjà vu moment when I opened the doors to the lanai and let some beautiful memories in.
We really enjoy watching how the different breeds of birds outside our window handle feeding time. Thom’s noticed that chickadees are extremely polite little birds. While one little chickadee is at the feeder, the others are patiently waiting their turns on a nearby tree branch or in the deck latticework. As soon as one is done, another will take its place, only getting a single seed or so, then leaving the feeder for the next one.
The gold finch, on the other hand, are family-type eaters, who all like to gather together at the feeder, getting their fill, bouncing around and around it as if there were something different on the other side.
The titmouse seems to be a fairly friendly feeder eater who will share its meal with a fellow titmouse, but they’re also a bit pickier, finding and tossing seeds that don’t appeal to them.
The woodpecker, though, gets the feeder all to himself because he’s just too big to share it with anyone else! When he lands, it sways to one side while he struggles to take advantage of the free food, usually hanging almost upside down, his speckled body wrapped around the edge.
My favorite, of course, is the hummingbird. I don’t expect to see them for a few more weeks — maybe even May. But when they finally arrive, then I know it’s spring!
It’s happening slowly, but it’s happening. I guess. Spring is taking its sweet old time getting to northern Michigan this year. There’s still lots of snow on the ground, and the temps are only getting into the 40’s, if we’re lucky. We were supposed to get some rain today, but even that isn’t working out. Maybe a little rain would help our lake, though frankly it’s at the lowest I’ve ever seen it in over five years. How is it that rivers are overflowing their banks all over the midwest, but here in northern Michigan lake levels are down?
Right now it’s typical spring out there: cooler temps, mostly cloudy, mud puddles and ruts. I know it’s gonna get better. I just don’t recall looking forward to it quite this much.
I guess if it still has to be freezing cold outside, at least we can be warm and cozy inside. There’s just something about a fire. This is one thing I definitely miss during the summer months. Guess we’ll enjoy it a bit longer.