Heading out this morning, I saw my first sign of fall with the leaves turning yellow and brown. It’s a bit confusing, therefore, that in the late afternoon, we can hear the buzz of cicadas, which is a sure sign that summer is still here. Yet the mornings are starting to cool and are in stark contrast to the daily highs that were in the 100s just a week or two ago. Up in Flagstaff, Arizona, they saw snow a week ago, and in Montana just yesterday, they had 4 feet of snow or 122 centimeters of the freezing stuff.

The summer is fading fast with the passing of the equinox as autumn starts to make itself known. Somehow, this is reflected in my headspace as I’ve been taking a pause from writing and playing with making music. I shouldn’t be too surprised by my creative desert as my modus operandi has typically been one of intense focus at the expense of all else. With my current diet and weight loss urgency, I’ve had all of my senses tuned to working on extending the summer of my life instead of giving into the fall.

Being consumed by novel tasks is one of the drugs that have always consumed me, but here, at this later stage of life, I see the imperative to work towards the habituation of healthy practices. Hopefully, the old maxim about being better late than never can still be realized by this man of oft bad habits. Trying to find a balance, I have to remember not to neglect my attempts at practicing the creativity I’m able to express, as losing that would be as dire as losing a limb.

Maybe it was the yellowing leaves on the sidewalk acting as a reminder of time passing that inspired me to jot down some thoughts today. Or maybe there’s a quiet urgency within me that’s afraid of allowing the creative embers to go cold. So, I force myself to write as a method of throwing kindling into the mind so the fire might roar back to life. Whatever it was, I cannot sit idly by as fall portends winter and that season is a forlorn space with a pallor that threatens to chill the sparks I need to stay warm.