I miss the change of seasons in Mexico.
I have probably said that about a hundred times this past year. Of course, if you have lived in Mexico, you know the statement is false. Mexico has seasons. Even in my tropical niche. They just feel different.
Of course, what I mean is I miss the wide variations in temperature I grew up with in Oregon.
I was thinking about that on Tuesday evening as I sat in the hot tub reading. The last two days have not been typical August days. Overcast skies. Some clearing. Cooler temperatures. And yesterday -- rain.
On my ride to work with a colleague, we talked about how summer seems to be ending about a month too soon. Even Septembers in Oregon can be summery. But not this year. Even a few of the trees are starting to show fall colors. Just highlights right now. Like an aging beauty who needs a touch of color to liven up her do.
What caught my attention in the hot tub was the breeze. It had been slight all day. But, it switched from breeze to wind in seconds. And from a different direction. If I had been on a sail boat, the canvas would have filled and snapped. An omen that change was in the air.
And change there is. But I will hold off on that until tomorrow.
For now, I will simply note, like everything else in life, the seasons are changing.
