Smells like Autumn.
Last Thursday was overcast and rainy; the sky a mass of blackish-bruises lurking behind scruffy, cottony puffs of white cumulous. On my way to work I walked down the wide concrete path of Birmingham's sidewalks,past the regal,elderly brick of the municipal building, the hanging flower baskets and the quaint little cafes that adorn Pierce St. A breeze stirred the air near my elbow as I went, and I paused in the middle of the walk to assess the chill inspiring goosebumps on my arm: Fall. This registered with traces of both surprise and resignment.
Two weeks ago I arrived in the parking garage to the suspicious scent of school time lingering in the molecules around me. As much as the days fold into one another, that one stood out as I could not deny the flag that had been raised. School! How could it be?
Work has been a fullfilling and all consuming abyss into which I daily throw myself. Although I remember well the terror that reigned in the beginning, the time that has passed between then and now feels both infinite and miniscule. In lieu of this transition, I find myself facing the period of time I discretely yet purposefully blocked out in my mental calendar: Sept- Dec are represented by a rectangular chunk of red construction paper dangerously entitled "Life".
Officially, (although I have been informally asked to extend my seasonal employment) my last day is this Thursday, after which I will retreat to VT for what will hopefully be a thoughtful and grounding vacation. I am indignant that Summer progressed without any acknowledgement or tribute paid on my part, and I suspect that Fall will inspire an eruption of trapped inquiries from my psyche. This being said, I am eager for and troubled by this next transition. Autumn, commence.
Two weeks ago I arrived in the parking garage to the suspicious scent of school time lingering in the molecules around me. As much as the days fold into one another, that one stood out as I could not deny the flag that had been raised. School! How could it be?
Work has been a fullfilling and all consuming abyss into which I daily throw myself. Although I remember well the terror that reigned in the beginning, the time that has passed between then and now feels both infinite and miniscule. In lieu of this transition, I find myself facing the period of time I discretely yet purposefully blocked out in my mental calendar: Sept- Dec are represented by a rectangular chunk of red construction paper dangerously entitled "Life".
Officially, (although I have been informally asked to extend my seasonal employment) my last day is this Thursday, after which I will retreat to VT for what will hopefully be a thoughtful and grounding vacation. I am indignant that Summer progressed without any acknowledgement or tribute paid on my part, and I suspect that Fall will inspire an eruption of trapped inquiries from my psyche. This being said, I am eager for and troubled by this next transition. Autumn, commence.