At long last THE PAPERBACK OF THE SPIRIT OF FLYING IS HERE!!! And what a long strange at times completely exhausting trip it’s been!
My labour of love – I hope you enjoy reading it.
Summer is at it’s end. I feel the sadness and melancholy of others, in other places. I feel it and it’s not even mine – and yet it is me – in earlier years.
The children have gone back to school
autumn is drawing close in the northern hemisphere
the end of august,
still a few warm, sunny days to be enjoyed
but the days are getting shorter again, the evenings darker.
Soon the trees will break into the finale and launch natures own fireworks
the announcement that summer is indeed over for this year.
I feel it, even tho where I live it’s perpetual summer according to some.
It isn’t; but the seasons aren’t as pronounced this close to the equator. Peculiarly enough
it is the winter I treasure the most here, even tho the vibrancy of autumn is still my favorite.
On my inner screen, years and geographical distances is no obstacle;
one aspect of me is driving down a lane in France in an old split screen Citroen
the weather blustery and the road covered in fallen leaves turning brown.
And I want to be there in body too
feel the crispness in the air and the light rain on my face
as I get out of the car and pull my jacket tighter, hands in pockets
delighting in the bursts of colour of my new scarf.
Or in the garden where my parents once lived.
I am walking around in this no-time land like a ghost
the sound of the silos drying the harvest in the far distance ever present this time of year.
The bright red garden furniture my mother restored all those years ago
the droning of the drowsy bumblebees, enjoying the last of the Nasturtium.
A younger version of me, new notepad on her lap, pen poised
waiting for inspiration that won’t come
before giving up and reading someone else’s prose instead.
Transported instantly to another place and time
where something worth writing about actually happens.
She dreams about cities where there is music to be heard and others like her to make friends with;
who reads books, likes art, go to the theater and to see a live ballet,
far from immature teens with their cigarettes and beer-cans, smelly locker-rooms and spots.
Where the people with dreams and aspirations live…
For a minute I too want to red wooden garden furniture
in a fruitless attempt to somehow connect with mother in a way we, me and I, never could.
Picture blurs, and clears once more
New school, new books, new jeans
the promise of new, hope of new friends
maybe even a fanciable boy…
Sitting at a desk
when I’d rather enjoy the last days of summer, cycling to the lake and going for one last swim.
The brochures of evening and hobby classes drops through the letterbox
see what tempting things we have on offer this autumn!
All in the name of trying new things and exciting adventures and the hope of meeting kindred souls.
Special offer Sunday lunch with friends after a brazing walk, lazy late afternoon drinking tea or wine.
It is the quiet exuberance time of the year
the enrich the soil of my mind – nourish my spirit time of year.
Not the loud jump up and down and dance of spring and summer.
It’s the tgi the weekend of my school-years
not to go out or partying
but to be allowed to spend time as I choose, with whom I want, well – to a degree…
A break away from the noisy crowds of competing children,
school corridors, playgrounds and gym-class.
All while the cats snooze in the midday heat
a gentle breeze keeping the mosquitoes at bay
just dregs left of my coffee.
The far side neighbor is on his lunch-break; Mexican popular music is pounding for all to hear.
I briefly wish our trusty bike would miraculously transform into a truck
where everything was ready and packed including the cats
and we could just jump in and take off onto our next adventure…
It’s time to go inside.
The crunching noise of rustling leaves underfoot
the canopy above and around me alight with colours
reds, orange, yellow and still a little green here and there
proper hiking boots, jeans and cozy parka
out for a walk, just because I can.
All around me autumn in all it’s splendour.
Even in the high street
the late summer sale and back to school have made way for
comfortable knits and stylish pants.
Make your way to the coffee house when you’ve had your fill of being buffeted by the brazing winds
or shopping has brought on a craving for coffee or tea,
cake or scones or even a late pub lunch
animated chatter catching up with friends
laughter and comparing best finds.
Here too it is finally autumn
the thermometer shows 28c/82f and it’s a glorious, sleepy sunday
cool enough for my body to exhale
a contented sigh of relief from the oppressive heat of the spring and summer months.
Last night we had an absolutely spectacular sunset
nature generously showing off in the most breathtaking of fashion.
Got to watch this rather unexpectedly from the boat
that we’d spent hours scrubbing down
frying my back in the sun.
cook food and scrub boat
cook food and scrub boat.
Today I’m wearing one of my softest t-shirts
saying Tour de France 1994 (yes I was there!)
and the contrast between where the shoulder straps were and the rest looks rather comical
Fortunate I have witch-vera…!
But I still miss the distinctive change of seasons and
talking about plans and ideas with my old friends
with whom even not speaking is comfortable.
All while I make me and my love coffees, cuddle the Miao-cat
and sit down and write this in easy companionable silence at the kitchen table.
Catpaw, 23 September 2012