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.
22 comments:
...and the eagle looks a little put off!
I too love the fall season...but i dread the winter--i wonder what the wooly worms are saying?
I have always been a summer person, and your post is so perfectly timed. It's been raining in Atlanta for the past couple weeks, and yesterday while walking home from the gym, I noticed the first scents of fall - the dewy, kind of musty smell in the air, you know that last whisp of leaf energy before they begin falling from their branches.
And for the first time in my life, I think Autumn is MY season of choice. (Maybe because my age is nearly equal to the 'Fall' of my years.
I love autumn except for the steady diminution of light in the evenings. This autumn brings a huge adventure, so I'm more excited than usual about it. I hope I won't look as bedraggled as that Indian by the end of October, when I'm home again, home again, jiggedy jog.
Or is that jiggity jog?
What happened to that Indian's eye?
I love autumn. It is a time to slow down, prepare for the cold, wet months. Time to cook, read and take those last walks not all bundled up.
I love that Larkin poem,Reya. Thank you. Happy Equinox.
Yes, the Larkin poem is wonderful. I like the transitional seasons myself. Here's hoping autumn brings you good things.
Tom you guys had a hideous winter last year. All that snow! No wonder you are dreading it. Here in DC winter is very mild. We usually get one or two snowfalls, just enough to look pretty, not so much that it becomes oppressive, and a few sharply cold days in January. It's quiet in DC during winter, I love that par.
Madtexter I'm glad you aren't waterlogged! I've seen pics of the flooding in Atlanta - yikes!! You sure don't LOOK like you're in your Autumn years yet. If you are ... sheesh ... where am I??
The friezes are so exquisitley and delicatley detailed. And so very eloquently symbolize the turning of summer into fall that illustrate your post.
I did dream, early Sunday morning, of you, Hammer, and a second male (Phil?...never could see him just sensed a presence). It's funny 'cause this is the first time I've had any dreams with bloggers in them. It was a crazy dream that didn't make much sense but maybe I should look into it as it was blown in on the wings of Equinox.
Hammer visits my dreams often. I would love it if you'd come visit my dreams, Ronda. Please make yourself at home whenever you like.
ohhhh, i dread and dislike winter, but fall is nice. We have had a couple of "crisp" mornings. I am glad to see your "crisp-ness" in your wit today. thnx
TY!
I'm looking forward to the fall too, and enjoying the changes that have already come. It's my favorite time of year, actually. :)
What wonderful pictures.
Yes, the Indian looks very tired.
I'm only sorry I maybe won't swim in the ocean again this summer/fall.
I adore fall much more than summer.
I even like winter except maybe March.
ps hit my ring with a hammer and it feels better!
Growing up in CA, and now here in KS, I seem to be missing my "dead bumblebee" days. Why does it just SLAM shut from summer into winter around here? Two days ago, it was 87F. Today, it's 62F. Heading into the 30s tonight. I think my flip-flops and lawn chair are left outside, right next to the dead bee. Your posts are awesome, Reya. Enjoy your solstice while it lingers...
EFH
hey reya - i'm liking the woman on the left - laurel wreaths in her hand, stars in her hair, calming the eagle, folds of cloth, cape blowing in the wind. that's my autumngirl!! peaceful evening reya steven
It's true, Expat, that spring and fall are almost non existent in the midwest. That's one reason I don't miss living there, not ever. Never.
the poem is exactly how I feel sometimes but can never express properly.
It's a great poem - so powerful.
Hiya Reya,
I'm coming to DC again. I lost your email when we changed internet providers, but you can write me at butternutsquash2@gmail.com. Peace.
Great poem. I'm a winter loving creature(but that's the Southern African winter, take note!) Enjoy the start of your lovely fall season..
The Indian looks VERY tired!
I'm very susceptible to the pleasures of sweet melancholy, I have to admit. Thanks for your always interesting thoughts . . . and also that Larkin poem.
Post a Comment