I worry.

We've officially done with summer here....those late season 70 degree highs have blown away with the leaves, leaving behind only bare branches and scarf weather.

I like this kind of weather - when white wine segues to red, when flannel sheets float out and settle over the bed, when cheeks blush from the pinch of the early morning chill. I like the change in seasons, every season....but this particular change is always bittersweet.

This is the season when I start to worry about my kids even more than usual. They huddle together outside in the mornings, some still clad in shorts and t-shirts, maybe a threadbare sweatshirt draped across hunched shoulders. When they come inside, they spend their first few minutes flexing and unflexing stiffened fingers, trying to jump-start their slowed circulation.

I worry about those that don't have beds, that have to sleep huddled in a corner of the couch or tucked into a chair.

I worry about those that never get to eat much and what their nutritional intake will be as produce prices climb and availability dips.

I worry about families that can't afford to turn the heat on yet, not yet, not yet, pushing it back and back and back because they don't know how they'll pay for it when they start using it.

I worry about students trudging between home and school in the dark, too tired to look carefully as they cross the street, cars sometimes only inches away.

I still enjoy the change in season. But I worry.

(Photo credit to jam343)