(Photo: Jorge)

And just like that, Summer handed us over to Fall. The uncertain Florida Fall, that is.

Earlier in October, the temperatures came comfortably down in Hogtown, the air dried up accordingly and we began enjoying the return of the magic of the winter light, presaged by its messenger, fall. In our little neck of the woods, by the corner of Tuscawilla and Franklin streets, that makes for specially inspiring morning walks that reveal what had not been hiding around your environs: little nooks, hiding fantasy denizens, old fences that more than arrest you invite you to stop and come in, in into their other dimension of time and experience as witnesses that they were to histories of far and near. Wanda and I would take slow, leisurely and meandering walks, forgetting all about the exercise power walk, and stop and marvel, recorded moments and intimate vistas with the ubiquitous cell phone, and commented and congratulated before moving on while the clear, clean and crisp breeze softly took our cares and worries (that were not few…) with it. An almost reality-in-crisis denial moment.

‘The girls’, as Wanda likes to call them, were coming back for Johnny’s birthday by the end of the month and we were very excited telling them about how delicious the weather was and planning for some long, bonding and energizing walks with the dogs, like the ones Jess likes. But just as they were preparing to do the trek, we were back to Florida, hot, humid and rainy.

And right the week after, down we go again. Sometimes I am tempted to fill in the online forms, City: Gainesville, State: of Schizophrenia.

But the signs were everywhere.

Our little (now not so little…) Ficus Persevericus tree, did its annual strip tease after for the first time giving us a meaningful bounty, seemly a reward for our patience all these years. Thanks, buddy, it’s been an adventure. By the way, this year we finally found evidence of the explanation for the disappearing figs: whatever the bird was, it left some of the skin of the fig it did not completely finish, with clear signs of his peak picking in a bit of meat still left hanging from the skin. A finicky but careless little avian. So, my neighbors have been absolved. And us, being kind of sentimental as we are for these things, felt good that we had done something for the cardinal that had been serenading us since the summer. Mainly, allowing that little freeloader hang around that corner of the front yard all this time. Well played little buddy, ‘we’re all in this together’.

On the other end of the front yard, the ginger was pushing out their very last two flaming red buds. With time, our prolific wedelia invasively migrated to our neighbor’s front yard while his ginger surreptitiously sneaked into our wedelia area (they spread underground and then spring on you). The funny thing is that our wedelia have practically taken over a whole area of Steve’s front yard, while the ginger has very much abandoned it while, this summer, exploding in our front yard out of nowhere and practically taken over half of the wedelia area. I’m afraid that little wedelia Ibanez de Paz is facing a very tough overpowering adversary. Why don’t I intervene?

In the late summer, the whole area exploded in their flaming red flowers, so many that we didn’t know what to do with them. Wanda loves them, every year she makes flower arrangements for the living room. This year they were in the dining room, the living room, the tv room and we took a bunch (big bunch, too…) to her mom and, still they kept coming. Until Jackson discovered the stem can be cut easily with the kitchen scissors and cut a butt load of them for mommy.

So, for a while that side of the garden looked like set on fire. An impacting experience.

But, all good things must come to an end (and, this year, we are hoping bad things, too…). And this week, we realized that what we were seeing, were the very last two shy little buds. These ones were short stemmed, and hiding among the foliage. The last hurray. Until next year.

And with that we are closing another chapter. And we get ready for a steadier change of season, as days get shorter and cooler (as far as that is possible in Florida…) and maybe, with luck, we get a cool Thanksgiving, not too cold, so we can sit outside and do some very cautious celebration with the two munchkins (the little ones, I mean…), their Daddy and Mommy, and ‘the girls’, who plan to come back south once more after having made the trek for my birthday in September and Johnny’s birthday last month.

And then, with luck, spring will come again to hand us over to summer and summer to fall. To the uncertain Florida fall, that is…

And maybe, by then, we all will be back, too.