Tuesday, September 22, 2009


Part of me wishes I were home, once again shoveling cat mess out of the kids' sandbox.

It's the part of me that enjoys fall weather. It's warm, but not too warm, with frosty mornings that make the jacket feel good to have about the shoulders. I like a little chill in the air when I head out to the bus at 5 am. I'd rather feel a little cool than just a bit too hot. Summer wears on me. I don't like that by 9 am I'm already sweating. I like to bundle up.

Fall doesn't threaten with rain. Fall doesn'tobscure the stars, but lets them shine bright and balck against the night sky, which is appropriately dark even still at 6:45 am, when I'm off the bus headed into the office. Not that I mind summer's long evenings. I just resent the foreshortened mornings. Mornings are meant for the stars, not for the upstart sun.

I love that Orion hangs in the sky, landmarking the southeast, stark against the other constellations as the lamppost was to the forests of Narnia. Yes, Orion is a herald of winter, but in the sweet chill of September mornings you can tell he's only wearing a jacket, not a parka.

When I see Orion, I don't mind that my eyes are too weak to pick up the myriad of stars that stretch into the universe behind it. The photo I have here is far too cluttered. I know that space is infinite and that wonders lie beyond what stars I can see, but the caveman in me enjoys imagining the stars hanging in the firmament just above my head are as far as can be seen. It's fun to see the constellations' familiar shapes unhindered by infinity.

The grass is never greener than in the fall. The pall of summer heat stops sapping its greenery and allows it to grow, happy, unscorched, even with fewer waterings. And fewer lawn-mowings, which is even better. My lawn has gone two weeks without a trim, and I'm not bothered.

We cover the garden at night, leaving the carrots and onions to welcome Orion, but covering the squash and tomatoes, which won't last much longer anyway. Such tomatoes we had this year. I know they soaked up the sunlight, storing it for winter. But to see the plants slowly nipped by the frost is no terrible loss. More plants and a bag of turkey manure will bring more tomatoes next year, hopefully.

Side note: The iPod Touch is officially dead. All internal parts corroded by a mixture of water and Sun laundry detergent. At least it was clean when it died . . .

1 comment:

Maaike said...

I love the fall, too. Just like you I love to bundle up and feel like summer drains all life from me.

I miss you, Brian, and those simple fall days in the backyard with the bluey village and tiny bonfires.