The morning sun has moved, changing seats at the breakfast table. It's the slight shift, alteration in light, shadow, color, brightness. Offering up clues that the season is changing. A somber change. Why is that? To go from white light - pure and hot - to golden light. Softer. Slower. Less intense. Less energized. A portend of the coming season. A season of slowness. The vigor of spring has waned. I notice that summer has a shortness of breath in August. Will soon be gasping in September. Napping in October. To winter is to sleep soundly. Restoring, dreamless, sound sleep. Heavy lidded. Impossible to rouse.
11 comments:
What beautiful observation in poetry. You are quite talented, indeed!
I wrote this morning about the word "oneiric." I believe your post today is positively oneiric!
And, have you seen the Roz Chast cartoon about August?
You have lovely handwriting to go along with your inspired words.
This was truly wonderful to read. A pleasure to see your handwriting as well. I love that!
~Dawn
Love this post.
Enjoy this day, Lovely Kim.
Beautiful! :) Best wishes, Tammy
Beautiful, heartfelt words. xox
I noticed the slight shift as well although the heat is so intense--unusually so--that the storm door's knob makes touching it bare handed a threat! The fig tree, grape leaves and ornamental grasses look like they're already a season ahead. Yes, Fall's handwriting is on the wall--writ in unexpected places. I quite like your recitation of the signs you've seen!
A between season and a feeling we all recognise ... beautifully written.
You ARE inspiring...this was wonderful.
This is absolutely prosaic. Thank you for sharing this thoughtful,pensive insight to the world around you. We need to do a bit more of this in our letter writing.
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