It’s coming—you can feel it in the air. Already the evenings are cooler. It won’t be long before we’ll have to face those cold, gray winter mornings again. (Of course, this isn’t so much an issue for us southern Arizonans, but for those in less hospitable climes, let me just say, I still remember and I feel your pain…)
This time of year always brings with it a certain lethargy. You know how it goes, one minute you’re lying in the arms of Morpheus, snoring peacefully, and then the alarm goes off—again—and you hit the “snooze” button—again, roll over and pull the covers up over your head. Some days it takes an almost Herculean effort to finally rouse yourself, swing out of bed, and plant those nice warm tootsies on the cold, hard floor.
This is all Demeter’s fault, you know, at least according to Greek mythology. She’s the goddess of the harvest, the one who presided over grains and the fertility of the earth. And before she got mad and created “seasons,” it was always warm and sunny—an eternal spring, if you will.
In her defense, she was sorely provoked. In fact, she was acting out of the strongest love of all—the love of a mother for her child. Here’s what happened: