Peace On Our Little Piece of Earth

Over at (Lefthanded Trees), Delia (my new from Bloglandia friend) wrote a piece about autumn and the energized feeling she gets as summer gives way to Fall. The moment I read this, I realized that I too felt more energized with the approach of Fall.

I love the passing of the hot times to the cooler.
I love the rise again of a light breeze against my skin.
I love the cooler early morning air as it fills my lungs,
sometimes touched with the smoky tang of
an early morning fireplace.

I love the unpredictable weather. The forecast may say rain in the northern valley, but, where you are in the northern valley more often than not controls the amount of rain we actually get.

I love rain and I am always hopeful that the storm coming in from the coast will actually make it through the delta and move south to my part of the northern valley. Rain comes up from the south and down from the north with geography playing a big role in whether or not we get much rain. We often seem to be on the outer edge of whatever front is passing our way. Of course, this doesn't mean we don't get a lot of rain. We have had some memorable seasons.

I'll never forget a January a few years ago. It rained non-stop for 30 days. Eleven more and we would have broken the Biblical record. It got pretty soggy that month and even for a rain person like myself, it got to be a bit much.

We lost a lot of trees around campus that month. When I say trees, I'm speaking of mature cedars, pines, and redwoods. That was the January I was in my office and jumped out of my skin as an almighty CRACK!! exploded through the building. I ran out the back door to find five trees down. One went and then took four more with it on its way down.

We were very lucky that day. Classes were already in session for that hour so there were no students on an otherwise busy walkway. A little earlier or a bit later and it could have been a very different story. It took a week to clear the debris.

But, where way I? Oh yes, Fall and feeling energized. Come Fall, I feel like taking walks, sitting on my front porch, delving back into long-term projects. I even feel a bit of interest in cooking and baking. God knows, I have no great culinary gifts but once in a while I feel the big push to follow a recipe, to face off with myself on a creative food challenge, so to speak. I'm sure it has something to do with holidays, birthdays, and all the visual stimulation of the season.

Yesterday was busy for a while. I had to tackle the garage. I'm a hoarder and DH's special escape place was overrun with my stuff. This wasn't so bad when he was working but now he is retired and he wants his shop back. I am forced to at last sort, store and toss. This will bring peace to our little piece of earth and we both get what we both most need - he gets his space back and I get more decluttered and get the remainder out of sight. Along the way I found old comic books that I discovered I had no attachment to anymore. eBay may bring me a windfall. I'll keep my fingers crossed about that.

Clearing out this stuff was good on so many levels.

1. Don's shop is now his space again;
2. A cabinet has been emptied (and refilled);
3. I have less stuff;
4. I have room now to box up loose stuff;
5. And best of all - I have the rest of Fall to concentrate on studying T. S. Elliot, Samuel Coleridge and poetic forms.
6. I don't feel so defeated by the work still ahead of me - yes, DH, I acknowledge that there is more work to be done;
7. I may get more painting accomplished in the kitchen, and;
8. The on-going photo project will get started up again.

Fall is like a season of rebirth for me. Of course that is no doubt directly related to my birthday being in mid-November. Fall is the only time of the year when I like the color orange in all of its varied hues, not just apricot or melon.

I like Fall/Winter gardens. They require so little work, not that I do lots of heavy gardening to begin with. But, in Fall/Winter I don't feel any guilt about neglecting the garden. The garden goes to sleep just as I am waking up from an energy-sapping summer. And this wake-up call is a siren call for me to go to winter beaches - cold, quiet, uninhabited. But that is another story.