"April is the cruelest month," they say--perhaps because it fails to fulfill promises, spring struggling to break out of winter like bubbles of steam trying to break out of liquid water. As for autumn? Many people's favorite time of year, "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness..."
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| thank goodness for the barges that allow us to ape that fruitfulness here |
In these polar regions, though, spring may be more exciting--think The Rite of Spring--visceral eruptions of fertility through ice. And here, for me, autumn may be the cruelest season. Were I still in CA right now, I'd be harvesting persimmons, just getting into oranges. Better not to even think about HI's harvest this time of year.
Here, though, fall is a paper-thin prelude to a long winter. We were harvesting cranberries in full fall colors in early September; in late September, blueberries through the ice. Before October is over, the convivial fire ring at our neighbors' (where we're house-/menagerie-sitting now) looks like this, the garden beds off to the left languishing similarly.
And our garden beds are blanketed with thin foam (gosh this one's close to the edge!)
You see this dark cast to the light also: yes, "light" can be an oxymoron at this time of year. I
like bright fluorescent light shone right in my eyes--except when I'm
driving! It's true, the sun is so low in the sky that when clouds aren't
in the way, it shines directly into the eyes.
We've
been floating on the meniscus of surface water pooled over freezing
ground; buoyed by warm south wind storms like in the last two days,
floating from one house- and dog-sit to the next, soon to fly out of
state altogether for ten days; also enjoying visitors, principally this
wonderful lady:
Phil's mom is 89,
whip-smart, strong, full of wisdom and positivity around life. She
brought a breath of the bounty of Oregon fall with her.
Now,
I'm trying hard to get back on track with work and, please life-force
and all the angels, my creative writing, and so to pull myself out of my
physical tailspin. More on that soon--I had to post my lament for fall
first.
Hi Phil's mom! So nice of her to visit.
ReplyDeleteI used to despise fall too, especially November in Seattle as it would get so dark and rainy. The light is a struggle, then the time change (not sure if you in AK observe that?) makes it worse.
here I have been welcoming fall with open arms as it means temperatures are tolerable, even if a bit cool at times. Although I miss red and orange crunchy leaves and bonfires.
DeleteHey bitt! Yes, our clocks just changed yesterday--it was a lovely surprise for me. I actually like it, but I'm a morning person and it definitely gets very dark in the evenings.
I'm glad that fall is comfortable for you there!
love
Ela
Ela, I wanted to let you know that, while I'm so sad to find that you are going through periods of bleakness, I find your writing utterly uplifting (which is paradoxical and even a bit guilt-inducing for me, but true). It's so beautiful and raw and mystic and wild. A bit like Alaska, maybe?! I hope you write a book - many books.
ReplyDeleteSending love from London. xx
DeleteEmily, thank you so much for your very touching comment. I, too would love to write many books. That you find this writing from bleak times uplifting is actually the highest compliment you could give--creating beauty out of loss, art out of despair, is perhaps the best an artist can hope for.
love
Ela