As if on cue, the first full day of autumn dawned Monday and the temperatures had dropped significantly.
It was a stark contrast from Saturday’s high near 100, as those of us who sweated the events of the 50th annual Collinsville Pioneer Day can attest.
It seems we’ve waited too long for the cooler weather, but I’m glad it’s finally here.
The changing of the seasons reminds us that all things renew.The leaves turn brown in the middle age of the tree’s season, just like our hair turns gray in the middle age our season.
But the trees don’t die in the winter. The green leaves will be back in the spring.
It’s a poetic cycle that seems simple, but it is enough to leave us in awe and wonderment.
If you were not at Pioneer Day Saturday night, you missed out. I predict it was a near-record crowd— at least for recent years.
We celebrated veterans and our Armed Forces. The parade spanned generations by honoring matriarchs of our community and celebrating our future with little ones on colorful floats.
Folks drank lemonade and ate barbecue, and kids played with little creatures in the petting zoo. It was hot, but it was a good time.
And then that night, under the shadow of the old water tower downtown, folks of all ages danced in the street. They danced to songs by George Jones and Freddy Fender and Louis Armstrong. It reminded me of the old Robert Earl King tune, “No Kinda Dancer:”
“The first of the month
Brings back the notion
Of a big round white dance hall
And a cool summer night
Red cherry faces set black shoes in motion
To the oom pa pa rythym of a German delight”
By the time we got to that portion of the evening, the weather had cooled and the evening was pleasant.
The song continues:
“And I tried hard to tell you I was no kinda dancer
Took my hand to prove I was wrong
You guided me gently
Though I thought I could never
We were dancing together at the end of the song”
I saw this scene play out with my teenage son and a young lady friend. I played it out myself dancing with my wife and my youngest daughter. We danced and enjoyed each other and made new friends. Not a bad way to spend a Saturday night.
We get busy these days. It was back to work on Monday.
As I pen this column, I’m preparing for another flight Wednesday morning.
Someone once said, “Being an adult is constantly saying, ‘everything will slow down a little bit next week,’ over and over again until we die.”
The busyness is good. It means we are being productive. It means we are expelling energy. It means we are alive and upright. But every once in a while— just every once in a while— it behooves us to slow down and sway to an old dancehall song. It behooves us to stop and enjoy autumn’s cooler temperatures. It behooves us to enjoy the harvested goods from the farmer’s toil.
There is rejuvenation in the fall of the year. There is a promise that we can rest in the winter and come back as active as ever in the spring.
On this, the first full week of autumn, I wish you all the best to you and yours.
The store shelves are lined with holiday goods— Halloween and Thanksgiving and — yes— even Christmas. Christmas indeed will be here before we know it.
And that’s okay. The holiday season is fun and the fellowship is welcome. But let’s all take a moment to slow down if we can.
In the sake of avoiding the old cliche about smelling roses, I encourage you to smell the pumpkin spice, instead.
Enjoy an Oktoberfest lager. Make sure your firewood and reading list are both stocked for winter.
Enjoy these things and reflect on the notion of a big round white dance hall.
And maybe— just maybe— find someone with whom to share a dance.