Beautiful October days will give way to November
- Melissa Herrera: Not Waiting for Friday
- October 27, 2024
- 1871
I thought we’d already gone through Ohio’s version of second summer, but my toes are chilly as I tuck them under the table to write this morning. It’s been in the 70s all week, and so far I’ve cut off flowers that have run their course, stacked pots whose annuals have died and mowed the lawn.
I know it won’t be the last time I mow this fall. There’s been a couple of light frosts but nothing killing. The mornings and evenings are cold, which tells me my still cheerful hanging ivy geraniums are living on borrowed time.
The urge to wipe the slate clean and ready for winter is strong. The urge to wipe the slate clean of a lot of things is strong.
I often wonder if I’m the only one who feels autumn in my body. It’s like in the “Little House on the Prairie” books — Pa always knew when a blizzard was coming. He’d stand a while and look at the sky, pondering the clouds and their formations. Then they’d tuck themselves in the cabin in the big woods, soddy, or wherever they were living at that moment.
They’d survive on Ma’s good bread and everything they’d preserved for the week the snow piled high. I often think I’d freeze to death if I had to keep a fire going to stay warm. I’m not built as sturdy as they were, but I feel fall and the coming winter differently in my bones this year.
Put the perennial garden to bed, pull out annuals and trim down what will live until next year. Mow the lawn and make sure the lines are neat. Vote out creeping tyranny. Put the outside furniture away and stow the big pots so they don’t break down in the cold weather.
Right now we’re decked out for spooky season as I have some little trick-or-treaters stopping by this weekend. I plan to find out where I packed my big witch hat so I can play the part when they come. George has arranged little skeletons climbing up the porch, and we will have jack-o’-lanterns burning bright even though they make the trick or treat time midday these days. My heart remembers evening trick-or-treating in Berlin long ago.
But I stocked up on way too much candy at Menard’s, and I’ll be ready to greet them with a cackle. This will be the first time I will have neighborhood kids come to my door, and my heart is bursting.
Winters aren’t as brutal as they used to be here in Northeast Ohio. They’re brutal if you’re a Browns fan, verification not needed. Are snowblowers even a thing anymore? Maybe in the snow belt, but not here.
Regardless, my bones tell me to prepare for the end of fall. I don’t do canning or preserving, but Aldi makes sure my cupboards are full in case a freak snowstorm comes and snows us in. That or Instacart. I think I long for snowy, blowy days because of two things: the books I read as a child and the snow days I experienced. The blizzard that shut down Ohio is a core memory for me.
Right now it’s still autumn, and I have Halloween and Día de los Muertos to look forward to. But November and December, January and February are coming, and I’ll be ready in every way I need to be. Maybe this winter I’ll reread the “Little House” books to give me strength for what’s to come.
Melissa Herrera is a reflective writer who captures the beauty and sorrow of change. With a career spanning 14 years as an opinion columnist and the publication of two books, she resides in Stark County with her husband and four cats. She writes to preserve memories. You can reach her at junkbabe68@gmail.com.