Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Summer is wearing itself out. Suddenly, just today, I could feel autumn coming. Last week I was well grounded in summer, but today - something changed. Maybe it's the sun sliding into Virgo that makes everything seem different, I'm not sure. Do you know what I'm talking about?
The days are noticeably shorter - did that happen in the last week? And the mosquitoes have taken up their annual campaign of late summer vengeance. (Why do mosquitoes get so viscious as summer comes to a close? Do they sense somehow that their days are numbered?)
The trees sound drier in the wind, producing a much more audible Shhh sound than a week ago. This morning I noticed some late-summer style dried up leaves scattered on the pavements. Even the gardens of people who carefully tend them all spring and summer have begun to shrivel up. The grass in Lincoln Park is brownish, other patches of grass, on the triangle parks, for instance, have turned to straw.
Summertime, just like Jake, is in its dotage. It's always a little sad when the energy shifts direction, begins to gather itself inwards in preparation for autumn's downward flow, although, unlike Jake, or me, or even you, summer will return fresh as a daisy next year and the year after and on and on.
I love the cycle of the seasons, turning round and round, before us and after us, too. The seasons lend me a sense of belonging, while at the same time reminding me that nothing lasts forever. I find that paradox very comforting. Do you?