Weekends of working at events, a few trips, gardening chores and a standing date with my sister and brother to watch episodes of Dexter each evening have kept me from my watercolor painting passion.
Sometimes summer is so full it gets in the way, and, so, by September I begin to look forward to the quiet seasons. By September, the last of the baseball games are played across the street from my house. The stadium lights will no longer remind me that bustle extends beyond my walls. Cars, filled with baseball fans and players, will leave the area, taking their enthusiastic noisemakers with them. The ice cream truck goes into storage, mercifully silencing the jangling looney tunes for a brief respite.
I’ll stop wrestling with my vegetable garden and let it give way to crisp brown-ness. No more rushing out to the tomato and pepper plants to find evening’s meal waiting to be prepped. Small reminders that summer is over will become more routine: when I pull up the lettuce plants, see the last of the gaillardia and primrose blooms, find the flies to be less numerous and insistent, and notice more fallen leaves along the gravel path in my backyard. What are your reminders?
Autumn is quiet for a person who doesn’t follow football. The sport heats up all around me, and save for the distant rumble from the college stadium and a few banal (yes, I said that) conversations at work, I won’t feel the tension that can come with Autumn football season.
Winter slips into place by November and then the remaining sounds of summer disappear. The skateboarders leave the skate park across the street next to the baseball fields. The adolescents take their raucous excitement and strident words juddering against the “f” word and go somewhere else. I wonder where? Perhaps to hone their vocabulary?
Will others feel the reprieve from summer’s chaos like I do?
But I’m afraid that the fall and winter months won’t be as unobtrusive as I like. The insistent clatter of the upcoming elections will intrude for one who doesn’t often disappear from in front of the computer. I’ll try harder during the quiet seasons this year to get away and seek out whatever life is going on during these next few months. First Thursday art crawls will go on, taking me downtown, reminding me that people get out and do things in the evenings! Hiking will be better tolerated in the softer weather as will walking the dogs.
And, if past fall and winter seasons are any standard, the clouds will roll in, blanket the sky and stay there, leaving some of us feeling blue, heavy and oppressed. Not me, though. I welcome the dimming of the too harsh summer light. I’ve got ample lighting in my little studio here.
His view: Autumn and the World Turns