I’m blue and not just because hurricane Gustav has displaced two million people. Every Labor Day is bittersweet. The promise of summer came with tender, green leaves unfurling. The shades of green are now dark. I still have my morning coffee on the porch but the light is razor-sharp and cool. The air smells of over-ripe weeds, dried leaves and melancholy. We officially have three more weeks of summer but we all know it’s over. The kids are back to school this week and it’s time to scrape the sand off our flip flops.

I can’t stop thinking about those two million people who will forever remember this Labor Day as an exodus. Thousands of kids won’t be having breakfast at their kitchen tables, wondering what to wear to their first day at school. Thousands of  their cats and dogs, eyes wide open, are stacked in crates are wondering what’s happening.

What’s happening is the unpredictability of life. The rug pulled from beneath our feet kind of fate can happen to anyone. Yes, you or me. The question is, what are we going to do about it? I’m going to go into my garden now and drink in the dregs of summer sweetness with gratitude. How about you?