Let's roast some corn...

There are some things that are just inexplicable. One is why someone would try to open a bathroom door, find it locked, then knock. You already know it's locked… how is that knock going to change anything? I refuse to acknowledge the knock, they know I'm in there.

Change is also something that is often unexplainable. It just creeps in like a kitten and before you know it a tiger is curled up on your couch.

Why do we hear a song for months and almost always hit “repeat” once…or twice? Then one day, the hooks aren’t as catchy, the lyrics seem stale, and its about one minute, twelve seconds too long. It happens. But why? Is it so we can store up a new favourite song somewhere in our temporal lobe? It is just because the synapses got tired of reacting the same way over and over and over again? Or is there just no reason at all. It just is.

The seasons change, although we typically see it coming, and can prepare for it. But honestly…why do they have to change? Why can’t it just be 78 and sunny with a light cloud cover and a sweet breeze all the time? Ok, we can even allow a soft shower at 4:24pm every day for the plants. But no…that’s not how it happens here. Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter come and go, always changing. Apparently, as my roommate pointed out, Autumn is upon us, as recently as yesterday. This means change is nigh.

Trade in the flip flops I have gotten accustomed to for closed shoes.

Substitute airy tee shirts for scratchy cardigans.

But what if I chose to embrace the crisp air, the burnt leaves, and the smell of cider? Instead of looking back and missing summer, I can venture out into the unknown of fall. Maybe grow a beard to shield the winds or sharpen my pumpkin carving skills.

Change does not have to be bad, it just must be accepted. All we can do as this wild world rushes by is be still and enjoy where we are, even if its in a completely new environment than we were in yesterday.

There is no sense in worrying about why things are not as they were, or what they will be like tomorrow. For now, Im going to whip out my pocket knife, pick up a knotty branch, sit in a rocking chair and whittle for a little bit.

It seems like the best way to enjoy this fresh, unfamiliar season I find myself in.