Posted tagged ‘fall’

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“Swinging on delicate hinges the Autumn Leaf Almost off the stem”

October 24, 2011

The morning has a crispness. The grass was wet when I went to get the papers. Across the street, painters are working on my neighbors’ house trim. It’s sunny but not warm. It is, after all, fall.

The birds need feeding. I miss watching them from my window here in the den. Their latest seeds of choice have been a mixture of fruits and nuts, and I have only a small bit left. Tomorrow, at Agway’s, I’ll have to buy more and also another case of canned dog food. I might also mosey over to their garden section and buy some bulbs. Last year the spawns of Satan found many of my new ones in less than a day. My garden was pockmarked with holes. It looked a bit like the lunar surface.

A former students is coming to visit from Thursday through Tuesday. She has been in Cincinnati with her daughter so we missed each other in Bolga. Her name is Francisca Issaka, and she was one of my favorite students. She and Francisca Ateere, another favorite, often visited my house. I remember how much they laughed and how much they enjoyed life. Both of them were sixteen when I first met them. They were the students I told all about Halloween during one of their visits, and they remembered and came trick or treating. Francisca still remembers and said she wants to be at my house for Halloween. On Sunday she is cooking a Ghanaian meal for my friends and my nephews. We are not having bush meat or goat though I wouldn’t mind either. My sister was appalled that I eat goat. She talked about The Lonely Goat Herd and the Billy Goats Gruff. I didn’t think about it, but I should have reminded her about Ferdinand the Bull.

Today I have one errand then Gracie and I are going roaming. I’m taking my camera as it has been a long while since I’ve snapped pictures of the cape, and I think it is especially pretty this time of year. I never really noticed the fall changes until my first year home from Africa. I always thought the cape this time of year was a bit dull compared to the rest of the state as there are so many pine trees which just stay green. I was wrong. The marshes turn a beautiful red, and up and down Route 6A towering, long standing trees turn a different color red than the marshes, and here and there are spots of yellow. The bogs are flooded to spare them the worst of winter. Bushes are bright with color and stand in contrast to their old white houses. The cape is an amazing place in the fall.

Categories: Musings
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“Through woods and mountain passes The winds, like anthems, roll.”

October 21, 2011

Though I woke up around 8:30, I lolled in bed for another hour or so. The room was chilly as the window had been open all night, and I just didn’t want to leave the comfort of my warm bed, but Gracie, sensing my stirrings, got up and went downstairs. I knew what she wanted and sure enough her door bells started ringing. She wanted out. I ran downstairs, let her out and ran right back to bed. Much later I decided to brave the day and dragged myself downstairs, grabbed a cup of coffee and went to get the papers. I’m still wishing I were back in bed.

I went to the library yesterday afternoon as their guest speaker about my trip to Ghana. I was gone about 2 and 1/2 hours. When I got home, I noticed a gift left for me in the hall, a dead mouse, compliments, I think, of Miss Maddie as she was in the hall probably waiting for my oh’s and ah’s at the wonderful present she had given me. I thanked her with what I hope was enough exuberance then I took the mouse and disposed of its remains.

Today is breezy, maybe even windy, and chillier than it has been though the sun is shining. I suppose the weatherman would call the temperature seasonal. I have to go to the dump today, and I’m putting in the last storm door, an admission of defeat, a recognition that the cold is coming.

I haven’t walked backwards in a long time. When I was a kid, I used to walk backwards when I had to pass the field on my way to school. The cold wind would whip across that field and hit me in the face numbing my nose and cheeks and making my eyes water so I’d give the wind my back. I remember how my coat used to billow when the wind hit it and how I’d have to look every now and then to see where I was going. A feeling of relief and even warmth always came when I’d get to the next street and have the protection of the houses and the huge trees lining the walk. That was when I’d turn and face the day.

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“Nothing is worth reading that does not require an alert mind.”

October 16, 2011

Somehow I lost my checkbook. I wrote a check this morning, took out the ATM card from that very checkbook at the bank, withdrew money and then went on my merry way. When I tried to put the ATM card back into the checkbook, it had disappeared. I drove back to the bank thinking somehow it fell out of the car. That was, at best, remote as I only opened the window. Just as I suspected, no checkbook . I went through my car. I found old mail I had dropped on the floor which must have slid under the seat, a quarter filled bottle of Gatorade my nephew left sometime in May, a check for valet parking and lots of dog hair but no checkbook. When I got home, I checked the drive and walkways, came inside and went through the table area where I had written the check and found nothing. I called the bank, and they put a hold on all checks. I am totally astonished at its having gone missing. I fear the check gremlins had been hiding in my car just waiting for this moment. It’s like the movie Gaslight. I am slowly being driven crazy. I can think of no way I dropped that checkbook, but I suppose I must have. Are those voices I hear?

Today is again a beautiful fall day with lots of sun. The temperature is in the 60’s. Even the house felt warm when I woke up. Last night we had high winds, and the ground is filled with leaves and clumps of pine, victims of that wind. It is still here but is much less ferocious and only periodic. I can see the backyard oak tree bending and swaying when the wind blows. The bird feeders are swaying.

I have been really lazy. Yesterday I did the casual wash up and brushed my teeth but didn’t bother to get dressed. A couple of things cut cuff dusted, but that was the extent of my industry. I finished my book, one with a plot so simple it did not in any way challenge my mind. Here is the plot in as few a number of words as possible: the government secretly tested a bio-weapon on Americans in an area in Detroit frequented by bad cops, drug dealers and prostitutes. The 1000 deaths were no great loss according to its inventor. It was, after all, Detroit. The disease had a built-in timer so it disappeared after 3 days and never traveled outside that infected area which had been sealed off by the bad guys, the US government.

Last night the Tigers lost. Detroit has been hard hit.

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“I saw old autumn in the misty morn Stand shadowless like silence, listening To silence.”

September 23, 2011

The day is cloudy, damp and noisy. I can hear birds making a racket all over the neighborhood. I’m thinking crows.

Last night I turned on the air-conditioner in my bedroom. The rest of the house was cool enough, but my room was stuffy. This morning I was greeted by the sight of a dead mouse on the downstairs bathroom floor. One of the cats, Maddie I’m guessing, had a busy night.

Today the stars and planets lined up and ushered in the autumnal equinox, the first day of fall, at 5:05 this morning. I know when I was a kid the seasons changed at different times than they do now. Fall began the day we were forced out of bed at a prescribed time, made to eat cereal, dressed in our uniforms and sent off to school with lunches and school bags in hand. That was the end of the glorious days of summer when every day was ours to do with as we wished.

The beginning of winter is a bit hazy. I figure it was when my mother forced us to wear heavy winter coats, mittens and those hats we took off as soon as we were out of sight of the house. With winter came dark afternoons and mornings. I swear my mother used to put us to bed earlier in the winter telling us it was late. Look how dark it is. That ploy stopped working when we learned to tell time. I didn’t like winter afternoons. They meant going inside early when the streetlights turned on triggered by the winter darkness. We spend most of our week days inside, either at school or in the house. Winter was the confining season.

Spring began when we could shed our winter coats, saw buds starting to appear on the trees and afternoons lasted longer. It became official when my mother would start to let me ride my bike to school. I was never really all that impressed by the flowers poking their heads out of the ground or the leaves appearing on the trees. I was just happy to have afternoons when I could play outside before dinner. There was a sense of freedom missing in the winter.

Summer was easy. It was the day school ended.

Autumn is my favorite time of the year here on the cape. Red is the predominant color, all sorts of reds on the maples, in the bogs and on vibrant bushes along the roadside. Here and there are trees bursting with yellow, and I love them for their contrast. I call this my let’s take a ride season when the roads are clear and Gracie and I hit the trail. We sometimes take all rights and other times all lefts. Today I have errands, but then we’re celebrating the new season by taking a ride.

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“There are good days and there are bad days, and this is one of them.”

July 30, 2011

You’ll get no cheery good mornings from me today. Already I hate today. When I went to get the papers, I tripped and fell. I cut the hand I used to cushion my fall and now the two last fingers of that hand are useless. It’s a good thing I only type with two fingers or I’d really be in trouble. When I got up off the ground, there was no one there to say comforting words and ask how I was. I walked slowly and a bit mournfully into the house and cleaned the now bleeding cut and put the swelling fingers under cold water. After I’d finished the first aid, I found holding my hand up made me look silly, but it made my hand hurt less. I’ll take silly over pain any time. Finally I got my coffee and carried the cup, papers and my pen outside to the deck hoping the morning would perk me a bit. I took a sip of the coffee, and it had grounds in it. Of course, it had grounds in it. On a morning like today, there had to be grounds. I decided I didn’t want to make another pot so I started reading the paper. Nothing in it was cheery, as usual. The Mid-East, the drought, the budget and Lord knows what else combined to make me feel even worse. Even the Red Sox had lost and Pedroia’s hitting streak had ended. I decided to read the comics and do the crossword puzzle. I couldn’t hold the pen right so my letters were all outside the lines and the words were barely readable. I had a bit of a cry for myself.

I never have days like today. Usually a fall doesn’t bother me at all, even when I break bones. It’s just something I do well. Coffee grounds-no big deal. I’d normally make another pot, but not today. I didn’t dare risk it. I had visions of pieces of glass all over the floor and me stepping in the tiny pieces I’d missed.

My friend Tony called about movie night. I said sure, but I know the tone of my voice belied my words. He’d said he’d barbecue, and I said okay with little enthusiasm then it all spilled out. I even added the part about my iPod, and how I can’t add music or delete it or how iTunes doesn’t even recognize I have an iPod, a really well-named iPod. He brightened my day by inviting me to dinner and drinks. I think I should capitalize the D in Drinks.

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“Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all.”

September 10, 2010

The morning is breezy and chilly, and the sun, in its fall course, has drifted away from the deck so I read my papers inside this morning. I missed the deck and all its comings and goings, but from my perch here by the window, I can still watch the birds at one of the feeders. The sun is bright but not warm. It peeks in and out from behind a couple of clouds. The rest of the sky is a deep blue. It is an autumn day, no denying it.

The end of summer brings a sameness to my life. It’s happens every year. It’s just a fact, an unlamented fact. Life quiets down and loses some spontaneity. The weather gets colder, and the deck becomes a desolate place in winter. I venture outside only to fill the feeders. Chairs and tables are covered. The candles are stored away in bins. The aroma of basil from the deck planters is no longer borne on the breeze.

With the change in season, the house becomes my refuge from the cold. I stay by myself more. I plan trips I may never take. It’s the planning I enjoy. I read, sometimes all day. Nothing is better than a book you just can’t put down. Some days I stay in flannel cozies and slippers. I nap on the couch under a warm, comfy afghan. I feel content with my lot. It’s far different than summer but no less satisfying.

I’m sorry to see the summer go as it was a grand one, but I’m just fine with the coming of fall, and I don’t really mind winter all that much. It’s that sameness I mentioned. It’s comfortable in the cold.

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“We could never have loved the earth so well if we had had no childhood in it.”

September 5, 2010

Days like today usually come only in novels or in movies enhanced by special effects. The sun is bright and piercing, the air warm in the sunlight. A breeze blows the branches and shakes the leaves. It’s a beautiful day.

I can see and feel the coming of fall.  The shadows on the deck have moved, have shifted with the sun. The nights are sweatshirt cold. I stayed inside this morning for coffee and the papers. The sun hadn’t yet warmed the deck. I missed my morning ritual, but I’ll have the sun in the afternoon.

When I was a kid, life was simple. The weather was warm or cold, dry or rainy. Days were school days or weekend days. Saturday was for fun, Sunday for church and family. I had play clothes, school clothes and Sunday clothes. I had two of pairs of shoes, one for playing in and the other for wearing to school and church. I had few boundaries or limits. Streetlights were one. Time was a number for me, hands on a clock. I didn’t understand it had significance beyond the moment. My life was in small chunks, and I only looked as far as a day or two. The worst things in life were eating vegetables, getting up to go to school, doing homework and going to bed too early. I did have all sorts of dreams. By the time I was eleven, I knew I’d travel. I never thought about the when or the what. I just knew I would. Being a kid was easy.

This blog gives me a chance to remember.

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