“Don’t you just love fall? It makes me want to shop for back to school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address.” – Nora Ephron, You’ve Got Mail
It typically happens the third weekend of September. That first chilly blast, that steady drop in temperature, that crisp newness of the season.
The first Blue Norther.
When I was growing up, we had an antique metal thermometer that hung on a post on our back porch. As the first norther would blow in, we could literally watch Autumn’s arrival through the window as the needle would steadily move from right to left.
In high school, the first norther typically blew in during the first “away” football game. Never quite prepared, we would huddle together, shivering in full band uniform, watching anxiously for the clock to tick down.
In college, the first norther was almost always followed by the aroma of burning leaves – something I never noticed before moving to Tennessee, but has stayed with me ever since.
And now, the norther blows in the memories of past orange-tinted seasons – and the hope of what’s to come.
The norther brings with it the thanks-giving season. We are no longer hot and cranky – we’re welcoming, warm and cozy. It’s the season of sweaters and scarves, hometown football games, warm fires, cocoa with marshmallows and “pumpkin spiced” everything.
Impatiently, we wait and wait, checking the weather constantly, longing to bring down our comfy winter togs from their extended Spring Break. In anticipation, we prepare – readying our houses for cooler weather, decorating with the pumpkin shaped candleholders and brightly colored faux leaves (which make the bright green leaves that still cling to their branches seem out of place), hoping we can WILL Fall into being.
…And it will be here – in its own time. Mother Nature is often on her own schedule – fashionably late to the party.
Until then, we’ll stare out to the north, watching the sky.
…Waiting for a change in the weather.
….Waiting for the norther to blow in.