Come Autumn and especially October

Great Smoky Mountains

Those who know me well know that fall is my favorite time of the year.  I prematurely long for October beginning in June or July.  In this, my 50^th fall season, I endeavored to determine why.  After all, every season holds the promise of something new.  It’s as if God knew our fickle natures would tire and need a change.

As I pondered my preference for all things autumn, I mentally made a list of all of the possibilities for why this season holds such charm.

For one thing, this month is the month of my birth.  Granted, that isn’t nearly as exciting as in years gone by but perhaps in my formative years, it was one reason I developed a strong preference for the beginning of autumn and for the month of October.

It also holds the promise of the rapidly approaching holiday season and cooler temperatures.  Although I am a Florida native, I’ve always favored the chillier weather, and I am grateful that I travel a lot and get to partake of it more often.  The drop in temperature means that even we Florida girls will get to wear boots!

If all of that wasn’t enough to help me understand my love for fall, I was reminded of something else just this morning.

I live in what I would describe as a small fishing village.  One of the livelihoods is stone crabbing and if you are a local, it is very likely that someone in your family is or was in the stone crabbing business or benefits from it in some way.  My dad was a stone crabber and my husband added a crab boat to our business just last year.  You may be wondering what crabbing has to do with my October love.

Well, you see October 15^th is the first day the crabbers can begin pulling stone crab traps and bringing in their catch.  Today signifies the start of a more lucrative season for crabbers.

When I was a child, after a long penny pinching summer, it was exciting to wait at the docks and see how many pounds of crabs daddy had caught that day.  Even as a child you felt that fiscal tension ease up quite a bit within a couple of weeks after crab season started (as long as it was a good season).  The question of how many pounds was often a precursor to what kind of Christmas you were going to have.

So this morning, around 4:00am, when I began to hear the sounds of those diesel engines as the crab boats headed out, I smiled and reminisced for a while and then said a prayer for a bountiful harvest and safety for all.

Now, if I could just get the days to slow down, so I can thoroughly enjoy every moment of my October.