Shifting shadows and campfires

It happens every August. The shift is subtle at first, a quiet theft of minutes from the tail end of the day, until suddenly you notice the shadows stretching long before you’ve even wrapped up the workday. Nights are coming earlier and earlier now. The window of light is closing, leaving less and less time in the evenings to head out after work, hop on the mountain bike, and spin out toward Five Rivers. The darkness covers the land, swallowing the vibrant late-summer wildflowers just a little bit faster with each passing afternoon. By the time we reach the end of the month, sunset will be hovering around 7:30 PM, and total darkness will seal the day by 8. 

But there is a distinct comfort in this turning of the wheel. Before you know it, the heavy, humid air will break, and the evenings will start getting crisp and cool. The woods will trade their deep greens for a rich explosion of autumn color. The shorter days mean the pace slows down, ushering in nights spent out in the backcountry, camping under vast, dark skies with plenty of time to sit by a roaring, crackless campfire. The seasons are moving, and it won’t be long before it’s finally time to pull on the blaze orange hoodie, zip up the work vest, and watch the smoke drift up into the cold night air.