There Is Light Beyond These Woods

I was going out for short walk. Somehow the night's oncoming sky caught my eye. With my new camera in hand I stood in the middle of the street and pointed my lens toward the western sky. What I saw was enough to give me the peace I needed for a little while.

Sing we now of autumn's harvest

The summer is drawing to a close now. The transition struck me as I was riding into my office this morning. The walnut trees were dropping their yellow leaves. There was a certain air about the pathway I took in. It was not cold it was warm it was the space between seasons.

I grab this picture last night to see how my camera was working. I think it captures the autumn light and the decay of the season. There's nothing wrong or malicious in the changing of the seasons. It is simply life following it's path like a river flowing to a sea.

Mid Month

Time has slipped by so very fast this month. With the return of the students to the educational process my telephone rings, my e-mail box fills and my calendar becomes over burdened with meetings. Issues at schools generate calls and meetings for a member of the Board of Education. Add to this the needs of my own sometimes very needy children and each tiny elusive bit of spare time I ever had disappeared.

Last night I went to a meeting at the middle school. I represent this school as an agent of the Board of Education. I carry our concerns to them, provide them a history of recent policy choices and I carry back their petitions for assistance relative to their school’s unique circumstances.

The meeting was fine but the people had to learn process. I have been doing this so long that running into someone who is not intimately versed in basic parliamentary procedure is refreshing. Learning process/teaching process was time consuming but refreshing. The meeting started at 6:30. I had left my office at 5:40. Between those two moments I had dinner at home. Post meeting I got home at 9:05 p.m. I had to get up this morning at 6 a.m. Tell me where is the spare time in that cycle? Tonight I will do it again.

The only old joy I have rediscovered in past several weeks is the New York Times Crossword Puzzle. Monday through Wednesday I hold my own scribbling down answers. Thursdays I may give it a try; that is a 50/50 proposition. I don’t bother with Friday’s it is just too weird. My son as a university student gets a “free” copy of the Times tied to his student fees and tuition. The value of that paper shall we say does not even cover the daily interest on his student loans on which I am a guarantor. I digress.

A crossword is a joy for a person with a vocabulary and with some bit of logical sense. Sussing out puns and word play keeps the mind keen and alive. To actually complete two puzzles on sequential days just seems like enough achievement to make me wake up the next morning. Oh I am old if the promise of a crossword puzzle is what keeps me going. Hookers and blow and loud, loud music in the old days sparked life but now dead trees folded into a quarter sheet attacked with ink is enough.

Rites of Passage

American high school contains so many rights of passage. There are dances, i.e. the Winter Formal, Homecoming, etc. There are awards ceremonies. There are various pranks including egg wars and the like.

Homecoming week has all sorts of odd quirks. Some involve dress-up, you know the stuff kids loved to do until they got laughed at for it. Today was “Would you still love me if I was wearing this day?”

Got to say the younger child has flair.

Bible Moment - Not My Norm

As I was reading my devotional today I came upon this snippet from the Psalms. I liked it. Do not cast me away when I am old; do not forsake me when my strength is gone. For my enemies speak against me; those who wait to kill me conspire together. They say, “God has forsaken him; pursue him and seize him, for no one will rescue him.” Do not be far from me, Divine Spirit; come quickly to help me. From Psalm 71

Leaf Falling In September

My larder is empty of decaffeinated coffee. If you are wondering why I would open with that statement it is a personal internal declaration that I want some. Sitting in my beautiful back yard a place not too warm nor too cold I could enjo...y the taste of coffee (alas sadly without the stimulant effect). The aroma would make a difference. To me just the smell of coffee makes me feel warm and full; the dark rich fragrance elicits relaxation responses. Right now I smell the fullness of green summer bursting with fruit and seed. What a wonderful bouquet, these scents I am enjoying are of life. But the aroma of coffee would make the moment perfect.

Funny the wind just changed there for a moment and I smelled something caramelizing. Sweet deeply cooked but not burnt it had the smell of boardwalk caramel corn from the vendor at 7th Street in Ocean City New Jersey. Now it is gone. Everywhere I hear tools of lawn work. The edgers and weedwhackers, the mowers and hedge trimmers are a constant drone and then they surge and they return to the steady hum of a Briggs and Straton ½ hours small motor. Whirrrrr and ptptptpt at the lower end of hearing come at me from all sides, east and west, north and south.

The breeze carries the slightest whiff of gasoline and oil. And when the company of conformers is done bringing things into line with unspoken neighborhood norms I will smell new mown grass and rich dirt smells. Why am I not among the busy? Well the air, the humidity and the sun have conspired to give me only the second perfect day of the summer. Do you think I should give up a perfect day just so that someone can think I love my lawn? No sir, not me. I am going to sit out here at this little glass table beneath my market umbrella and write of the joy of watching small golden leaves fall. We don’t get many of these days. The leaf I just watched spiral and turn danced for me and me alone as the bird behind me went cawlll, cawlll.

The dance done will only be done once. The spinning toward earth in erratic but perfectly beautiful choreographed motion is a command performance never to be repeated. Who would expect me to surrender this suite of joyful sensations for the mundane mowing and mulching? Much like Jesus when he said the poor will always be with you, I say the chores both necessary and ephemeral will always be with you.

The wind has changed again and someone appears to have taken on the task of slow cooking meat in a smoker. Ah the joys of idling about on a summer day

The Screen Door

A door closed today.

In a hammock my form stretched and twisted until pleasant comfort was found.

My glasses were pushed high upon my forehead.

Squinting I read about how eyes can and must see afresh a poem read long ago.

The words remain unchanged but the meaning shifts as when light fails across a sundial.

Throughout the day the light is the same light from the same old star

But as the moments pass the shadow falls differently and a reading of the shadow and of the light marks a different thing, an hour gone.
A poet's words are both light and shadow in the head and in the heart.

Gold green the grass dances in the perfect breeze on this perfect day.

The scent of grilled food is carried by the perfect breeze on this perfect late afternoon.

I napped today as my magazine fell aside me.

It was an honest nap.

It was a nap of freedom such as I have not felt in many, many days.

I may have drooled.

I may have snored.

A squirrel, the squirrels???? was/were working overtime in the old walnut tree.

Bang.  Rustle, rustle….bang.

Walnuts struck down on the old deck’s wood and woke me from lost moments

I dreamt sweetly of old flesh and kind words.

I dreamt deeply knowing the end is so much closer than the start of the path and that

                this late summer reverie will be gone in just a moment.

The sense of infinite time pouring through my fingers left me with that dream,

And with the banging of walnuts upon the deck.

A door closed today, a screen door with gossamer webbing but life is now forever divided.