(no subject)
The days have stretched long, and I have turned wearing with the dearth of darkness. Leaves in full green, grass reaching high (again), and the sun drives off both clouds and shadows. The king grows strong. *sigh*
Not that I'm complaining, really. I suppose I've always been a dark half sort of fellow. I always preferred the autumn. In the east, this meant cooling days and longer nights, breezes and turning leaves and the promise of snow. It meant a relief from the heat and humidity that characterizes so much of memory. I think of mists and harvests and fog and soft lights when you want to keep reading because it's too early for bed.
I still get a charge out of the change of seasons, especially from summer to autumn. Even out here where the summer does not oppress the crispness of the air, the returning clouds, the sudden sharpness in the breeze, all give me rush. It's remarkable to me how much my mood improves and my energy. I find myself setting goals by it; "I don't want to spend another autumn in this job," things of that nature.
It's funny, though, that this year I've perked up with the sun. I suppose I always do to some extent - the spring is, after all, the time when school ended, when the camping season began in earnest, when I found I had time to waste in ways of my choosing. Still, it's unusual for me in some ways. I suppose I might finally be acclimating to living out here and finding relief as the clouds recede. Well, we'll see. Come August, I always get to a point where I long for clouds and rain.
This post has sat for way too many days, so I'm going to put it up now. I hoped to come up with something to tie the whole thing together at the end, but you'll just have to settle for my random ramblings. :)
Not that I'm complaining, really. I suppose I've always been a dark half sort of fellow. I always preferred the autumn. In the east, this meant cooling days and longer nights, breezes and turning leaves and the promise of snow. It meant a relief from the heat and humidity that characterizes so much of memory. I think of mists and harvests and fog and soft lights when you want to keep reading because it's too early for bed.
I still get a charge out of the change of seasons, especially from summer to autumn. Even out here where the summer does not oppress the crispness of the air, the returning clouds, the sudden sharpness in the breeze, all give me rush. It's remarkable to me how much my mood improves and my energy. I find myself setting goals by it; "I don't want to spend another autumn in this job," things of that nature.
It's funny, though, that this year I've perked up with the sun. I suppose I always do to some extent - the spring is, after all, the time when school ended, when the camping season began in earnest, when I found I had time to waste in ways of my choosing. Still, it's unusual for me in some ways. I suppose I might finally be acclimating to living out here and finding relief as the clouds recede. Well, we'll see. Come August, I always get to a point where I long for clouds and rain.
This post has sat for way too many days, so I'm going to put it up now. I hoped to come up with something to tie the whole thing together at the end, but you'll just have to settle for my random ramblings. :)