The fall of the summer is subtle, at least at first. You might momentarily think those few slim bright yellow shapes flirting to the ground are goldfinches, but you’d be wrong. With closer attention you note they are the first leaves to declare their readiness to reenter the great cycle of composition and decomposition that leads to continuance.

Then you may become aware that the grass is less glossy green, and there is a vague bronze wash on the leaves across the field. Some grasses and wildflowers have suddenly gone dry and brown, scattering seeds instead of petals. The heavy mists of late August or September mornings resemble the chill of frost to come.

It’s hard to welcome the end of summer and so it is natural to prevaricate, delay, temper the anticipation of change with soft thoughts of the last warm days that may still grace the season, postponing the reckoning ahead. It’s no wonder that when fall truly comes, it can feel like a shock.

What about the fall of a democracy? Can it be stealthy as well? Do we discount the evidence of our eyes and minds in hopes of prolonging the illusion of constitutional safeguards and familiar reassurances? Have we been looking past tinges of rust that identify decay?

Everything goes in cycles, some short, some long, some so long we can scarcely comprehend how beginning and end relate. We have work days, sleep cycles, news cycles, election cycles — all human inventions or habits. Then there are seasons, geological patterns, eclipses, larger celestial cycles. These we have little sway over. Some cycles, like those affecting our climate, are human-induced and exacerbated, and while we have agency, we are mostly choosing not to use it.

Political cycles are not inevitable. They are caused by action and reaction, although sometimes well camouflaged. The current collapse of the Republican Party, long being corroded by forces desiring wealth and power at the expense of all else, became undeniable on Jan. 6, 2021, when only a few lone voices spoke out about the physically violent insurrection fomented by our former president.

Many have tried to disguise those shameful and destructive actions as some kind of justifiable behavior, but Jan. 6 blew all the leaves off, leaving the bare branches of hypocrisy and disbelief in our government and Constitution exposed.

It’s a clever tactic to get elected in order to tear down the system you supposedly serve — have taken an oath to serve — but apparently, oaths to uphold the Constitution are not binding for the wrecking ball crew of Republicans in the House of Representatives. The dysfunction suits some interests perfectly well: the haters of democracy and our founding statement “all [people] are created equal”; foreign opponents — think Putin, Xi, North Korea; certain oligarchs; and certain industries still trying to crush the last drop of profits from their workers and the earth.

To them, it doesn’t matter how the system is brought down, only that it ceases to function. The selection for House speaker of an election-denying architect of the attempt to overthrow the last election, who opposes women’s right to bodily autonomy, gay marriage, and the social safety net including Social Security and Medicare, does not end the chaos of the past few weeks in the House; it guarantees dysfunction for the foreseeable future, as we face urgent tasks of funding the government and responding to the drastic situations in Ukraine and Israel/Gaza.

Thank goodness for the judges and grand juries and prosecutors who are performing their functions with dignity and attention to detail despite delays, redundancies, threats, absurd arguments and harassment. There is still a chance the stalling and lying and maneuvering will exhaust our legal system’s ability to settle justice on those who have most recently worked to destroy our democracy. But for this moment of transition, when we can still recall the summer, and have yet to feel the full freeze of the winter, I am so grateful for these stubborn, dedicated keepers of justice.

Is there anyone else out there who is sick and tired of all this nonsense and destruction — anyone ready for a new season of democratic action? All rise.

Judy Wagner lives in Northfield.