Early in the morning yesterday, the air was cool and very still. I saw no one for the first 40 minutes of my walk and took this photo of a grand house reflected in the water beyond the sea grass. I strolled along thinking of various time I have been alone walking in a forest or field or even a trail in the high Himalaya, sometimes truly alone, sometimes just by myself although others were not far away. It's best by myself.
The moon is full, we are having sunsets with progressive shades of pink spread in ombre fashion across the sky. The air turns cool when the sun begins to sink. I've pulled out he duvet for my bed and the fuzzy slippers for the morning when the kitchen floor is chilly. Summer is slipping away. Yes, we'll probably have more warm days, but I don't think the nights will be warm again. I washed the summer quilt and put on the newly made winter, or autumn one, a batik in deep, rich colors.
Autumn is a wonderful season whether we are being purely climatic or metaphorical. It's hard for younger people to imagine because summer is so impoetant to most of them but autumn may be the best season of all. WEaring scant clothing and sitting on a beach, or in a backyard, exposed to the warmth of the sun is wonderful, but sweater weather is very wonderful too -- not to hot, not too cold, just right -- like Goldilocks in the three bear's house. When I walk on the beach now I can walk on cool sand or let the even cooler water at the tide's edge lap my feet. If it's soon too cool for that, I can wear sneakers and let the cool breeze blow in my face. Both are good.
The mid-70s are a surprise! Part of me remains in the 50s -- age, I mean, not decade of 20th century. It's a joy ride, new experiences land in my lap and I've become a better quilter, poet, writer than I expected. It's a rich life for a person never rich financially. Hey, this is what the mid-70s are like!