Gone are the mornings of birds songs and the blaze of rising sun, replaced by a thick swath of blackness at dawn and talk of too many acorns on the ground.
The swing of the seasons is nothing new to us here and yet, each year we immerse into the sense of shock that we inevitably experience when the angle of light upon the earth shifts so radically that we feel it in our entire system.
Adjusting as we do, we take to the indoor comforts to which we readily habituate, cooperating in shelving the beach gear, flip flops and all else in favor for the wool socks and parkas and we turn to all that warm weather distracts us from. We are adaptable because of the seasonal changes here.
We profess to love the autumn on Cape Cod -- and, for the most part, we do, in full consideration of the months that follow it. This is still the time for walks on the beach and outdoors activities without the obvious restrictions of the snow and ice of winter.
And yet, we remain at least a tad sanguine for the days we leave behind -- days guilded by a warm sun and green trees, days that are inevitably more carefree to most of us than awakening to the curtain of night that gets heavier as we descend towards December.
To many, the promise of holidays ahead provides sufficient distraction for the loss of summer. To others,it is time to head to Florida.
Studies have proven that we, like the birds, experience a migratory inclination when the days shorten. This gives the travel agencies an edge; more tickets for trips to warm climates are purchased in November.
However you look at it, we have to deal with fumbling around for the light switches in the morning and walking the dog while holding a flashlight at five o'clock because this is all but the order of things.
The good news is that within two months we shall be on the other side of the decline of light.
And moving again towards the longer days.