This week we've been waiting at the crossroads. We've been vacillating. We look first one way, back the way we've come. Back towards summer with its hot temperatures, sudden outbursts of thunder and lightning, echoing laughter and muttering streams descending. Or forward towards the serenity of winter, muffling blankets of snow, measured conversations, more logs on the fire and audacious plans hatching.
One moment there is hot sunshine, the next we are overcast and there are glowering thunderheads squatting in the distance.
Rain is always threatening, but none actually arrives.
Sweaters in the morning are discarded by afternoon.
Our doors and windows are open, then closed. Open, then closed. Open, then closed.
We teeter on the edge of autumn, and it feels as if the first raindrop will topple us over.
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Thursday, 8 October 2009
Teeter totter
This week we've been waiting at the crossroads. We've been vacillating. We look first one way, back the way we've come. Back towards summer with its hot temperatures, sudden outbursts of thunder and lightning, echoing laughter and muttering streams descending. Or forward towards the serenity of winter, muffling blankets of snow, measured conversations, more logs on the fire and audacious plans hatching.
One moment there is hot sunshine, the next we are overcast and there are glowering thunderheads squatting in the distance.
Rain is always threatening, but none actually arrives.
Sweaters in the morning are discarded by afternoon.
Our doors and windows are open, then closed. Open, then closed. Open, then closed.
We teeter on the edge of autumn, and it feels as if the first raindrop will topple us over.
One moment there is hot sunshine, the next we are overcast and there are glowering thunderheads squatting in the distance.
Rain is always threatening, but none actually arrives.
Sweaters in the morning are discarded by afternoon.
Our doors and windows are open, then closed. Open, then closed. Open, then closed.
We teeter on the edge of autumn, and it feels as if the first raindrop will topple us over.
5 comments:
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Mrs B said...
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Close to the same in UK although more a 'put an extra jumper on, we're not putting the heating on yet' and 'OK let's light a fire'.
Long awaited rain over last few days, now we have frost in the forecast. Can we last without central heating until end of October?! -
Thursday, 08 October, 2009
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Caution/Lisa said...
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That is a beautiful analogy. I do love your writing!
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Thursday, 08 October, 2009
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MsTypo said...
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What a lovely way of describing this middle moment between summer and fall. In truth we know its neither but we still look for signs of both. :)
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Thursday, 08 October, 2009
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Woodman said...
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Ground frost last night, the first we have had up to now but it hasn't killed off the soft plants. A lovely autumn day with the leaves coming off the willow tree and a tree rat still hiding beech nuts in the lawn at F's house.
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Thursday, 08 October, 2009
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LadyFi said...
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I love the way you make it sound as if you are on the cusp of an adventure...
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Friday, 09 October, 2009
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5 comments:
Close to the same in UK although more a 'put an extra jumper on, we're not putting the heating on yet' and 'OK let's light a fire'.
Long awaited rain over last few days, now we have frost in the forecast. Can we last without central heating until end of October?!
That is a beautiful analogy. I do love your writing!
What a lovely way of describing this middle moment between summer and fall. In truth we know its neither but we still look for signs of both. :)
Ground frost last night, the first we have had up to now but it hasn't killed off the soft plants. A lovely autumn day with the leaves coming off the willow tree and a tree rat still hiding beech nuts in the lawn at F's house.
I love the way you make it sound as if you are on the cusp of an adventure...
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