David Friedli

By the Dashboard Lights

October 2, 2008

Who, Who Turned the Light Out?

It is the last day of September. (Yep, that’s about par for the column-writing course. Last minute.)

The days have turned cooler. The nights have a damp chill.

Leaves are beginning to put on their fall colors.

I love autumn.

It is my favorite time of the year.

Bluegrass lawns, fond of cool weather, are lush and vibrant green, bouncing back from summer’s heat stress. Mowing them takes significant effort now, with juicy blades sticking to the underside of the mower deck, clogging the discharge chute.

The first few flocks of migrating birds pass far overhead, leading the parade through the Central Flyway toward their wintering grounds.

The tee top residents in our back yard, a pair of squirrels who typically have kept their distance during summer, only occasionally coming into the territory prowled by the family dog, are braver now as they pursue food for the winter, scavenging and storing for the colder days to come.

The earliest falling leaves make finding a golf ball on the local course more difficult, even when the ball is in the middle of a fairway, but it doesn’t prevent me from squeezing in as many opportunities to play as possible.

Cooler weather means additional options to the wardrobe, and while it will be weeks until shorts are completely replaced by jeans as the choice of leisure wear, pullover jackets and sweatshirts are making their way toward the front of the closet and top of dresser drawers.

I love fall.

Except for one thing.

Who turned out the lights?

By 7:30 PM, the sun is below the horizon. By 8:00 PM, most stars are visible. By 9:00 PM, it is dark.

Too dark. Too early.

When the sun shines brightly and July’s days are hot and humid, it is easy to beg for night to fall, hoping darkness will bring with it a measure of cooling comfort.

But these are the days that should last forever. Perfect weather, and so many possibilities.

It is a shame for great days to end so quickly.