Last press of sun and warmth has given way to the bite of fall and this last week was the last walk we will take without coats. The smell of fallen apples, the tang like that of cider vinegar, greets me when I open the door and the fruit flies swarm. We are counting the days until freezing now, when the house flies will blessedly disappear. The tomatoes still ripen on the vine and frost has not yet killed though the days have turned cooler. Leaves are a crunchy carpet underfoot.
We visit friends and the sound of small children wrestling, tagging, and squealing bring me happiness. We take this week slow, a break from school, a time to recover and evaluate and plan and complete, and I'm so thankful I planned it this way, confirming my gut feeling that I need to allow myself to ease into this school business and there's no need to be rigid and pressured. Education still happens in a different way and it is like a cleansing breeze to return to a less scheduled day for a short time, to let the morning slip away full only of dolls and riding bikes and slow piano practice. We, especially I, will be ready next week to return to routine but the change of pace for a couple days is life-restoring, a strange Sabbath. I must remember this.