Home to September

              It is September: real life returns after the suspended time of summer. Summer no longer means freedom to me--freedom from what, when I am no longer working? Summers are too hot, I can't enjoy being outside; by August there is a heaviness, an inertia in the air. The first cool days and nights are such a relief.
     
             Even when autumn meant school and all its pressures, I welcomed the clearness of the days and the undercurrent of melancholy. I have always been a minor mode kind of person, feeling the contrasts, the way a warm, lit house welcomes me when the weather is cold. Life is precious when you know it will end; not in a morbid way, not as a depressed person, but as the poets have always known. Perhaps because I have been fortunate in my life, I seek the balance of a streak of sadness, the knowledge that I am alone, and all this beauty is a temporary gift.

January Walk

                       Today was bare and grey and foggy. I wandered across the long hills of the former Curtis estate, now all old trees, trees that rared up out of the mist like druids. One tree was twisted as if yearning to pull itself out of the ground and drag away into the fog.

                     I walked in my own pocket of silence, alone except for one or two distant dog walkers. Then suddenly, a team of Amazonian girl runners crested a hill and tore past, sleek in elegant tights, their long, black ponytails flying behind them. They ran up the longest hill with perfect form and speed, moving sculptures. I was nearly invisible as they passed, young deer goddesses, allowing me to see them for a moment in their human guise.

                     I was bundled up against the chill, puffing as I squished back up the soggy slope. I admired, even yearned a little for that youthful energy. But my freedom is being my imperfect self, and a January day that is a fresh beginning. The year begins again, the trees are black shapes waiting for far-off spring, the day is grey and white, waiting for color. I have time. No one is looking at me, I have nowhere to go, I can do anything or nothing at all.