The old crab apple tree outside our bedroom windows has issues. The trunk is half hollow, which worries me, but the ground squirrels think in makes a dandy home. The tree’s leaves get a fungus in the summer, so by August they fall off and the limbs are bare. Then in September, as the weather cools down, it starts blooming again. Hence the photo of ripe crab apples and blossoms on the same tree.
Lately, I’ve been acting a lot like the tree – ready for spring and making every effort to deny the arrival of fall. But with the sun rising later every day and this morning’s chilly temperature, I am forced to acknowledge the arrival of my least favorite season.
Don’t get me wrong. I love fall’s moderate temperatures and beautiful colors. But, the season has the unfortunate habit of coming right before winter. Since winter is cold, dark and long, fall’s position as harbinger of doom makes me dislike it. If it came before spring, I would embrace it instead of resorting to a few tactics that maintain good mental health. Sometimes, I grin and bear it like a true stoic. Sometimes I look on the bright side: fall means Christmas is coming and by then the days are getting longer instead of shorter and it’s only a few short months until spring.
Sometimes, and this is my favorite tactic, I act like the crab apple tree. I jump right past fall and winter and pretend it’s spring. This little ruse only works until first frost for the tree, but I can get away with it until the first sticking snow. And by then, I’m ready to decorate for Christmas and drink cocoa. With the holiday rush and new presents to distract me, I don’t go completely bonkers until well into January. And since Hiram is very patient, he puts up with my winter sulks until spring finally arrives.
One thing has me a little worried, though. After seventeen years of living with the crab apple tree, he plans to cut it down this fall and use the wood for grilling. Once he’s done, just to be on the safe side, I think I’ll hide the axe.
