I’m enjoying the crisp morning air warmed by a weaker sun, a thinner blanket of warmth than the sweltering rays of a few weeks prior. Sadly I say goodbye to the relentless fruit, put to rest the weary tomato vines now drooping in their shabby beds. Summer is ending despite late cropped beans and peppers that linger like forgotten survivors longing for rescue, and despite desperate attempts to stay the damage from an unexpected frost, it’s time to say goodbye to another season.

Late September always reminds me of a bittersweet time when I watched the fruits of my own labor ambling down the hall, past a once familiar homeroom, moving on to a new teacher and new friendship configurations. I am feeling proud of my crop that I had a hand in nurturing, like all the teachers before me; yet now I sigh, somewhat weary, wondering to myself if I, like the dried vines bearing heavy fruit, will have the energy to do it all over again.

But I know my nature. I know I am equipped to nurture the seeds of society that sit before me. A season has not yet come my way where I didn’t have the heart to rise up and do what needed to be done. Even if I have to learn to read the subtlety of a raised eyebrow, I will find a way to tune in to the needs of this crop. If I stay close to the source – sunshine and good will – I know that things will fall into place and the harvest will be unique, and possibly even more abundant because we’ll be adding resilience to our definition of success.

This year will have the most challenges yet, and I know I won’t be alone in my struggle. I just have to remember to trust my own nature. We all cycle through adversity, grow wise, and move on. But this year we had an extraordinary gift of emerging from an extended summer when time slowed down to yield to nature and family. That kind of collective experience occurs once in a generation, perhaps even a century, so it has the promise of intense growth and change.

I expect the seeds of a prosperous harvest next fall have already been sewn just by opening up the doors to learning in new ways, staying connected, and supporting one another to do our very best under trying times.

Let’s hope for that promise of an extraordinary harvest, the harvest of good will.