I am going to repost a blog I wrote in 2009. It says it better than I can say today. Have a lovely weekend.
I looked outside today and my yard was littered with leaves. I told the kids about it as they looked out the window, and one of them remarked, " that is the best tree, it always mourns for us because school is getting ready to start. As I thought about that, when you live in a place you grew up, as Robert Lewis Stevenson put in his book.
From Child's Garden of Verses
As from the house your mother sees You playing round the garden trees, So you may see, if you will look Through the windows of this book, Another child, far, far away, And in another garden, play. But do not think you can at all, By knocking on the window, call That child to hear you. He intent Is all on his play-business bent. He does not hear, he will not look, Nor yet be lured out of this book. For, long ago, the truth to say, He has grown up and gone away, And it is but a child of air That lingers in the garden there.So as I stand and stare at the tree, I see all of the children who have clung to its
branches in the last days of August, knowing that summer was almost over.