Archive for October, 2010


October 5, 2010 1 comment

Weather as crisp as an apple plucked fresh from the tree. The fruit beckons. It calls my name. The light, soft and diffused.  Autumn is the world’s dimmer switch, turning off the glare so that we can see each other more clearly in the shadows.

A glance held in the night, across the void.

Fall and school and leaden skies and the aroma of rotting leaves and cooling embers and toadstools kicked in the wood. Even at this ripe age, the autumn of my own life, I feel as if I should be strolling across a college green. Books under my arm, glancing at coed beauties with firm bouncers under tight, thin sweaters, sleeves pulled to elbows. My favorite spectator sport becomes no less engaging when a chill is in the air. Notice the way she moves in her clothes. The form and the flow of the under-current rather than the shimmering surface of exposed skin.

She checks her bearings. Afraid to drift.

A time to notice subtleties. The timbre of her voice. The arc of her gaze and the softness and warmth in her eyes. How she pins her hair, loosely or with precision. Whether her smile unfolds all at once or spreads slowly like a velvet curtain opening onto a show. 

Flats or heels or black, high top Converse All Stars.

Fall makes me want to return to Italy or take a lover. I should take a lover to Italy. Cypress lined lanes. Chipped ochre plaster. Old men playing cards or bocce ball. Old women laden with the makings of the evening meal. I am the outsider watching a world that has become familiar yet is still alien. Book in one hand, wine glass in another. The tight American knot of busy-ness slowly loosening in my stomach.

She might soothe my soul.

Fall evokes a different musical register. Giorgio Conte’s whimsical Gne’ gne’  or Leonard Cohen’s Tacoma Trailer or Erik Satie’s 3 Gymnopedies or 3 Gnossienne. Don’t confuse melancholia and introspection with sadness. Sorrow and regret and longing can be joyful too. For me, fall runs deeper than the other seasons. It folds rather than whisks. Fondles and caresses instead of chafing and rubbing.;hl=en_US”></param><param;hl=en_US”></param><param 

And then on into winter, we could go.

I should take a lover in the season when the petals will open only to accept the kiss that searches for the sweetness within.

Categories: A Day in the Life...