Somehow, at the end of August, even though it's technically not the end of summer.... the world knows it. The light changes, ever so slightly.... takes on a golden hue that it did not have in the unwavering heat of summer. It's different in the morning, when the haze is greater, and the sun takes longer to come up and warm the earth. In the evening it's brighter and clearer.
Autumn in my life, too.... the last birthday in August was one that always seemed very far in the future to me.... 60.... and now I'm beginning to feel like I've gone beyond the "little girl" that my mom always called me to being the grandma I truly am. When my mom was this age, my dad had already been gone 5 years. Her mother never made it to 60. My joints tell me I'm 60 every day, and I feel a little more somber and steady.