I was up early -- silently watched the sun climb over the land, life, and over a calm, crisp breeze -- a breeze that fell and floated down in periodic consistency almost like sets of waves -- the kind that are small and roll casually in groups towards the shore sliding up the sand and beach relaxed -- these are the waves with the grace and pattern usually only found when the tide is slack and undecided -- when nature is between ebb and flow -- between high or low. This time of year is the "seasonal slack-tide". It is as though summer was the easy living of a high tide where the fish filled one cooler as friends emptied the other. The shallows were at depth, and life erupted in abundance-- Now the metaphorical tide is starting to slip back out to sea; however, there is this time right now. An annual gap of such brevity where it is neither summer nor fall -- where the water is calm and waiting to leave in the same fashion that the weather, daylight, leaves, and women wearing lots of skin will soon be gone -- this is when the wind whispers like the calm water of shifting seas reminding us that the channel is still deep, the days are still long, the world is still is green and alive, but change is coming -- winter is coming -- the shallows and shoals are rising and soon upon us. She also softly encourages us to reflect on the summer season -- to be thankful for the harvest allowed from the light, heat, and rain -- from the time with friends, around a grill, late nights of laughter, and the experience of living among the explosion of life. I love this time of year. I had an amazing summer. These  were some of the thoughts that shared the sunrise with me. It was a beautiful morning, and while I suppose the passing of summer should be bittersweet, I was nothing but smiles as the wind and mild weather not only had me 'hoodied up', but it also liberated a shower of barely yellow leaves  from the two walnut trees in the backyard -- it was unmistakably autumn, and it was absolutely perfect....I plan on doing the same thing tomorrow morning -- take a moment and be silenty living in the now -- take a moment and enjoy the seasonal pause because the tide is shifting, and the suspended moment exists for none of us.