Funny how things converge sometimes.  I feel the impact of changing seasons, I find Sunday a difficult day of the week, and antithetical to what one would expect a teacher to feel, I dread June and relish September.  And so given that the last day of summer 2019 falls on a Sunday in late September, having gotten off to a, frankly, miserable personal start in June, here I am struggling to say goodbye– to the beautiful weather, the promise of lush, fully leafed trees, the bounty of farm, field and garden.

Now, my friends, is when shit gets real.

I find myself, by choice, in a whole new situation, or circumstance.  And as this season of upheaval and re-evaluation moves from in front of my windscreen to the rear view mirror, while it may still be closer than it appears, it is still behind me.

As the poetess Maya Angelou so eloquently put it, Still I Rise.

Time to close the windows, get out the sweaters and start wearing socks.

Time to finish the last chapter of summer reading, which always seems to have a hero  rescuing the strong but flawed female lead, not knowing that he is the one being rescued.

The hero of this piece…. is me.  I have learned to be a self-rescuing Princess, and don’t fear the coming winter.

Bring it.