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Showing posts with label Fall. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fall. Show all posts
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
I worked a 10 hour day today - and it feels like its a short day, which, of course, compared to other days it was. It was a relatively productive day overall, but I was glad to get home. I split the day pretty evenly between project related work and O&M work, so it was a nice balance. I am relaxing into the evening watching some TV (Raising Hope, The New Girl) and reading (The Cloud Atlas). It feels nice to give the brain a break.
Today was our first real rainstorm here in the Bay Area, which was nice. I loved the scent of the rain in the predawn hours. This is my favorite time of year, weather wise. I love the warm days and cold nights, I love the bite of fall in the air, I loved tucking into a cool bed under a warm comforter. Pure creature comforts. Speaking of which, I think I am going to settle in for the rest of the quiet evening here.
I'll leave you with a link to a great music clip. This Florence and the Machine with "Breath of Life".
Today was our first real rainstorm here in the Bay Area, which was nice. I loved the scent of the rain in the predawn hours. This is my favorite time of year, weather wise. I love the warm days and cold nights, I love the bite of fall in the air, I loved tucking into a cool bed under a warm comforter. Pure creature comforts. Speaking of which, I think I am going to settle in for the rest of the quiet evening here.
I'll leave you with a link to a great music clip. This Florence and the Machine with "Breath of Life".
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Fall Approaches
the turn of the season, cloaked
in rich burgundy, lush death
inside of lush death, the promise
of life again, three times
lush and lush and lush
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Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The Strange Currents Of October
Fall is often an introspective time of year. I know I feel that way and I know that many of the people I talk with feel that way. There is something in the season - perhaps the eternal influence of the end of summer, perhaps some shift in body chemistry as we prepare for the coming winter, perhaps something cultural that is deeply ingrained.
Personally, on top of the introspection of fall, I layer a profound sense of loss on top of the month of October. October is a time frame in which I often find myself contemplating the loss and memory.
Principle among those losses was the death of my father and my grandfather separated by only a few short weeks in an October many years ago. My father died of cancer and my grandfather of a heart attack. My father was 54 and my grandfather was 84 (it was my mother's father, my father's father, my other grandfather, died when I was very young, at Christmas, also of a heart attack).
I could list other losses and incidents of loss that stacked up in the month of October, but I won't. Suffice it to say that it a time of contemplating life and death for me, both on the personal level and on the wider cultural level, with Halloween (All Souls Eve and All Saints Day).
That combination has some strange effects on me. First, it does make me emotionally sensitive to all kinds of loss. It means that sometimes, with little or no warning, with minimal triggers, I can easily spin into a deep and dark mood. At the same time a greater sensitivity to the fragility and eternity and beauty of life itself rises up in me.
It is a season of strange currents. It is a season of simplicity and beauty and grace and sadness and joy and memory. It is drawing to a close as we slip into the final week of October. I know from many years prior that I will rapidly slip out of October and slide into winter, which in California means rain and rain and a little more rain with some extra rain in case you weren't watching.
Winter is also a season of long slow rainy days spent curled up with a good book or watching a classic movie (or a new one). Winter is the season of Thanksgiving and Christmas. Winter is the season of driving to the Sierra Nevada's to see the snow. Winter is the season of going to the coast to watch the wild storms crashing into the shore. Winter is the season of a long mountain hike in rain drenched redwoods, where you reach the far point of the hike and realize you are soaking wet and have several miles to go to get back and wonder what the hell you were thinking? Winter is the season of a lazy weekend day spend sitting in a mirror staring at a painting for hours.
So, for all the strange currents of fall, for all the moods and memories of October, I love this time of year. It has a certain quiet hushed vibrancy, as if just under the currents it was thrumming with life. It seems at times I can hear the heartbeat of fall, soft, somber, and powerful. For all its moods, I love these strange currents.
Personally, on top of the introspection of fall, I layer a profound sense of loss on top of the month of October. October is a time frame in which I often find myself contemplating the loss and memory.
Principle among those losses was the death of my father and my grandfather separated by only a few short weeks in an October many years ago. My father died of cancer and my grandfather of a heart attack. My father was 54 and my grandfather was 84 (it was my mother's father, my father's father, my other grandfather, died when I was very young, at Christmas, also of a heart attack).
I could list other losses and incidents of loss that stacked up in the month of October, but I won't. Suffice it to say that it a time of contemplating life and death for me, both on the personal level and on the wider cultural level, with Halloween (All Souls Eve and All Saints Day).
That combination has some strange effects on me. First, it does make me emotionally sensitive to all kinds of loss. It means that sometimes, with little or no warning, with minimal triggers, I can easily spin into a deep and dark mood. At the same time a greater sensitivity to the fragility and eternity and beauty of life itself rises up in me.
It is a season of strange currents. It is a season of simplicity and beauty and grace and sadness and joy and memory. It is drawing to a close as we slip into the final week of October. I know from many years prior that I will rapidly slip out of October and slide into winter, which in California means rain and rain and a little more rain with some extra rain in case you weren't watching.
Winter is also a season of long slow rainy days spent curled up with a good book or watching a classic movie (or a new one). Winter is the season of Thanksgiving and Christmas. Winter is the season of driving to the Sierra Nevada's to see the snow. Winter is the season of going to the coast to watch the wild storms crashing into the shore. Winter is the season of a long mountain hike in rain drenched redwoods, where you reach the far point of the hike and realize you are soaking wet and have several miles to go to get back and wonder what the hell you were thinking? Winter is the season of a lazy weekend day spend sitting in a mirror staring at a painting for hours.
So, for all the strange currents of fall, for all the moods and memories of October, I love this time of year. It has a certain quiet hushed vibrancy, as if just under the currents it was thrumming with life. It seems at times I can hear the heartbeat of fall, soft, somber, and powerful. For all its moods, I love these strange currents.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
A Fall Night
The movie was short. There were only the barest bones of a plot to give the Hero an excuse to follow the scripted course. You knew the Bad Guy the moment he appeared on the screen. The Leading Lady was stunningly beautiful. The Supporting Characters were appropriately quirky.
I walked out of the theatre into the fall night. Santana Row was across the street. It was lit in various shades of neon and mercury. The night was velvet in its blackness, all trace of the stars lost behind the clouds. It was cool, cool enough that I zipped my jacket shut as I walked across the parking lot. My car was sitting there alone underneath a street light, clean and silver. A single landscaped tree, strategically placed in the expanse was its only company.
I took a deep breath of the air. It smelled like rain. I crossed the parking lot in a slow purposeful stride, drinking in the sensual champagne - the dance of light and shadows, the scent of rain and fall, the feel of coolness on my face, the lingering taste of Black Cherry soda, the quiet hushed sounds of urban life. I shook hands with my friends and wished them a good night.
A perfect fall moment. I wish I could capture it. I wish you could have been there. I share it hear only imperfectly. A pale imitation of the moment. Perhaps it is enough that you can, from your memories, close your eyes and call the sensuality of it into your senses from somewhere deep in the well of memories.
I walked out of the theatre into the fall night. Santana Row was across the street. It was lit in various shades of neon and mercury. The night was velvet in its blackness, all trace of the stars lost behind the clouds. It was cool, cool enough that I zipped my jacket shut as I walked across the parking lot. My car was sitting there alone underneath a street light, clean and silver. A single landscaped tree, strategically placed in the expanse was its only company.
I took a deep breath of the air. It smelled like rain. I crossed the parking lot in a slow purposeful stride, drinking in the sensual champagne - the dance of light and shadows, the scent of rain and fall, the feel of coolness on my face, the lingering taste of Black Cherry soda, the quiet hushed sounds of urban life. I shook hands with my friends and wished them a good night.
A perfect fall moment. I wish I could capture it. I wish you could have been there. I share it hear only imperfectly. A pale imitation of the moment. Perhaps it is enough that you can, from your memories, close your eyes and call the sensuality of it into your senses from somewhere deep in the well of memories.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Tuesday At Lunch
Tuesday At Lunch
Lunch is split pea soup and tuna salad, with a macaroon for dessert, all washed down with a bottle of San Pellegrino. Pretty simple and straight forward.
The morning has been relatively quiet here at work. I've had a handful of meetings. I've got a clear calendar for the afternoon so I am going to review some long set aside email. I am sure most of them will end up in the OBE folder. (Overcome By Events - meaning they are no longer relevant because of events that happened since they were sent.)
It has been a beautiful fall day. The sun is shining brightly but the air is crisp and cool. I must profess an undying love for fall. There are so many things that make it my favorite time of year - the weather, the smell, football, the change of seasons, the long twilights. I find all of them simply magical.
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