When the Leaves Don’t Change on Time

I missed yesterday, so you will probably get two today. It is the 18th and I am still in this thing! 31 days of fighting scarcity.

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I went to the pumpkin patch yesterday. I went with my kids, my sister, her family and some of her neighborhood kids. I went to the pumpkin patch because I wanted to and because my sister wanted to go and because it was time. But I always forget it is time. I always forget because it doesn’t feel right. It isn’t cold enough to be pumpkin carving weather, and the leaves. Why are most of the leaves still green?

I have lived in the south for almost ten years and I am still confused by the seasons. I still sometimes almost miss peaches because they are ripe far sooner than I expect. I still get confused when my girls wear sundresses to the apple orchard and short sleeves to get their pumpkins.

And this next one, this is the craziest one, every year at this time I look at the pictures other people post of the leaves that are orange and yellow and red, and I am afraid that I have missed it, that the changing of the leaves won’t happen to me, in my neighborhood, on my trees.

I get scared that because the timing isn’t exactly what I expect, or what is happening to other people then the timing of the leaves means this part will just be skipped.

Y’all this is not how the cycle of the trees works. It makes no scientific sense. It doesn’t even make any social sense. In my head I am screaming, EVERYONE ELSE I KNOW HAS PRETTY TREES. But that isn’t true either. I know a lot of people in Atlanta who are experiencing exactly what I am experiencing. But scarcity makes me totally crazy.

There are a lot of things in my life that have happened on a time line that I was totally comfortable with. In fact, in this way I am very, very lucky. But there are a few things that I thought I would have by now that I am still waiting on.

Scarcity tells  me that if I don’t have it right now then I am never ever getting it.

But abudance, abundace gently tips my chin toward the warm setting sun and whispers, Abby, love, feel the warmth of a fall sunset in the south. Breathe the air still warm into your lungs. The changing leaves are coming my dear. But for now enjoy the gift of the angle of the sun on the patch of earth you are on this minute. The still green leaves come with their own gift.

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