Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Thank God That's Over
The dude with the ax reminds me of summer busy-ness and activity. This is part of the frieze on the Senate side of the Capitol.
I've taken off my Star Trek wig and outfit and am now preparing to dive head first into fall. To be honest, I don't do well with balance. But I always try.
Now is the time of year when the trees start pulling in their energy, when gardens shrivel, when gardeners cut back the dried plants but do not try to revive them. The sun sets earlier each day, rises later in the morning. Soon I'll see my neighbors dressed in sweaters and long pants. Soon I'll be wearing sweaters and long pants. Oh yeah.
I saw a dead bumblebee on a marigold flower yesterday, a sure sign that fall is here. He must have conked out while feeding, like a drunk passing out at a bar. What a way to go, eh? Nice denoument, Mr. Bumblebee!
The bees, yellowjackets and hornets that are still alive become fierce and aggressive as daylight declines. They no doubt understand, on some level, that their days are numbered and are apparently not too happy about it. Mosquitoes, too, go for the jugular in early fall.
Maybe because I'm fairly sure I'll make it through the winter, fall brings out in me a gentleness I forget during summer. I, too, call my energy inwards and downwards, an act that makes me feel a sweet melancholy. Other than a seasonal fear of sunset, fall is probably my favorite season. After this summer just past, when I had to say my final goodbye to my dog, I welcome Autumn with open arms.
Hail and welcome, sweet Fall. Yeah!
Why did I dream of you last night?
Now morning is pushing back hair with grey light
Memories strike home, like slaps in the face;
Raised on elbow, I stare at the pale fog
beyond the window.
So many things I had thought forgotten
Return to my mind with stranger pain:
Like letters that arrive addressed to someone
Who left the house so many years ago.
-- Philip Larkin
In fall, after we bring in the harvest, we can rest. That Indian looks so tired.