We took two of our granddaughters to the zoo on Saturday. It was a typical fall day with changeable skies and chilly winds, so we dashed inside an exhibit building for some warmth. The girls were immediately mesmerized by the otters happily swimming in their outdoor water habitat behind a huge wall of viewing glass. I was, too. Their ease in the water and joy in their surroundings held me captive. Having closed our pool for the season over a month ago, I must also admit to a twinge of envy that they, at least, were still swimming.

Our zoo has taken an active role in reintroducing the otter back to Western New York waters after decades of over-hunting by trappers and fishermen who wrongly believe that otters compete with them for game fish. Otters’ habitats also face destruction from pollution and disease-causing parasites contained in runoff. Fortunately, the Endangered Species Act now protects these beautiful creatures.

When will people learn that their actions bear direct consequences on the balance of life on our planet?

My dog Simon likes to poke around the back edge of the yard where we’ve let the bushes grow to tree size. There’s enough room between the bushes and the fence for a leafy, little-dog-sized tunnel. He uses his tunnel to patrol the fence line for chipmunks and squirrels and occasionally exchanges barks with neighbor dogs or puts nose to ground if something smells interesting.

Today he got me thinking of childhood summer days I spent with friends in the woods bordering the neighborhood school. I hadn’t thought of those woods in quite some time. We felt safe and closed off from the world, spending hours acting out made-up adventures beneath the trees.

I wonder what Simon thinks of on his patrols? Does his tunnel seem as magical to him as my woods did to me?

My adorable granddaughter is off to kindergarten, ready to face the world. Wasn’t it only last month that she learned to walk? Then it hits me, again. Time really does fly. It flew when my own children were little; it flew much more quickly now.

Today is the first day of my new daily routine, which goes like this: breakfast, morning news, writing. (I can’t complain about the two-second morning commute.) Then I take the dogs out, clean a bit, exercise, stop for lunch, and return to my desk in the afternoon. Occasionally I will mix things up with a French lesson or play my violin or piano for a bit of creative variety, to keep my brain fresh.

Focus, discipline, purpose. My workday mantra. Purpose. Don’t we all need it? Now that my granddaughter’s in school and my daughter no longer needs me to watch her on a daily basis, it’s time for the next phase of my life to begin.

This week, a forecaster predicted that Fall would come early this year.

I love to swim. I love my pool. The water is crystal clear and refreshingly cool. The exercise energizes me like no other form of physical activity, and I always stare sadly at the pool after my husband closes it down for the winter. Four months open, eight months closed. Sigh.

Summer flies by here in the Great Lakes region. I’ve learned to savor every moment I spend outdoors during the warm months of the year. Glorious warm breezes rustle through the bushes and trees that form a natural privacy screen around our property. A more diverse sampling of bird breeds, like goldfinches and wrens, has stopped by our yard this year. A small brown bunny also resided for a short while under the bushes. I love swimming in this small oasis of natural beauty we’ve built in the middle of an urban neighborhood.

Great Lakes winters can be long and brutal. Come February I’m anxious for the weather to turn and dream of the days when I can once again walk outside wearing a t-shirt, shorts, and sandals.

Would I trade my Great Lakes life for a warmer climate? Not a chance. It’s the color that explodes most vividly on sunny fall days. It’s that first shot of warm air after a long, cold winter that breathes hope for the summer to come. And, believe it or not, it’s the interesting winter weather events I’ve witnessed residing close to Lake Ontario.

So, do I look forward to Fall this year? Not yet. Not yet. I haven’t got swimming out of my system. But when I do, I will happily settle down with a pumpkin spice latte and a good book and wait for the snow to fly.