A drip, a drop of leaves here and there, but the heat still clings, stubborn and unrelenting. The land is thirsty—dry to the bone. The stars themselves even feel muted, Orion slipping low, almost hidden below the horizon.
It’s an in-between time: summer doesn’t want to let go, but the days keep getting shorter. Fall is on the doorstep.
And I feel it—not just in the air, but in my own heart.
We humans are fickle.
We longed for summer when the chill of winter lingered too long, and now—tired of the heat—we ache for cool breezes and crisp mornings.
As I watch the leaves fall, one at a time, I sometimes wonder: How many more of these seasons do I get to see? Why do we get so discontent? Why can’t we rest in the moment we begged for only months ago?
The truth is, our steps are not unlimited. But our hearts are always moving on.
A song that has always stuck with me is George Strait’s “The Chill of an Early Fall.”
It’s not just about weather; it’s about the change of seasons in the heart—the cold that sneaks in when something once warm begins to fade. There’s both a beauty and a sadness in that song. The early fall he sings about carries the weight of loss, of love slipping through, but also of time moving forward whether we’re ready or not.
When I hear it, I feel that tug: every season we live through is precious, but none stay forever. The chill comes whether we welcome it or resist it.
So here I am, caught in this in-between time. The days are still hot, but the signs are there. Change is coming. The leaves drip one by one, the light slips away a little earlier each evening, and my restless spirit shifts with it.
Maybe the call of fall is more than just cooler air or shorter days. Maybe it’s a reminder to number our steps, cherish what’s here, and trust the rhythm of change.
Yes, summer will fade.
Yes, another fall will come.
But each one is a gift, and I don’t want to waste it in discontent.
So, to the fall… I lift my eyes, my heart, and my hope.
To the Fall (song lyrics)
Verse 1
Drip, drop—just a few leaves fall,
But the heat still lingers, hanging over all.
The sky feels heavy, the night turns small,
Orion fading, sinking past the wall.
Summer’s holding on too long,
But the season’s changing song.
Chorus
To the fall, to the fading light,
Days grow shorter, and the air feels right.
We begged for summer, now we’re weary of it all—
So we sail our restless hearts to the fall.
Verse 2
One by one, the colors start to fade,
Golden fire where the green was laid.
And I can’t help but wonder, as they drift and stall,
How many more will I get to see at all?
Steps are numbered, shadows tall,
Yet I’m drawn into the fall.
Chorus
To the fall, to the fading light,
Days grow shorter, and the air feels right.
We begged for summer, now we’re weary of it all—
So we sail our restless hearts to the fall.
Bridge
Why do we chase what slips away?
Why can’t we rest in the gift of today?
The heart keeps moving, seasons call,
And every step just leads me…
Chorus
To the fall, where the shadows grow long,
To the fall, where endings make us strong.
Every drip, every drop, is a whispered call—
To number our days,
And lean into the fall.
Song Link: To The Fall
George Strait gave us a picture of autumn that chills the heart, a season of loss and longing. My own song is more of an answer to that—less about love slipping away and more about learning to rest in the rhythm of change.
Both songs, though, remind me of the same truth: the seasons move on, and so must we. And in that movement, there’s both a gift and a call—to cherish what is here, and to live every step fully, before the leaves fall again.
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