August, 29th, 2023 ~ Tuesday (before my coffee, a very pleasant 76°, and nicely quiet)
I could say it’s oddly quiet – but that might conjure up eeriness and disquiet. It’s the opposite of that – calm, sunny, a slightly cooler breeze is riffling up the dog’s fur as he sleeps, and the temp is in the mid-70s (which I feel we haven’t had in eons). I can hear a plane far off in the distance and the caw of a crow but other than those benign (and somewhat soothing sounds) – not a dog, not a train whistle, not a car horn. It is lovely. This quietude doesn’t come around very often here where I am amidst parking lots and humanity.
We had rain the last few nights – so welcome and so nice – and a lovely way to cool off the still, but waning, hot days of this summer. Having led a semi-vampiric lifestyle up in the NW for eight years, being cool and dark (forested and barely any sun), these last two summers have been HOT and SUNNY. This summer was better (more well-tolerated than last) but still – hot and sunny is HOT AND SUNNY when you are not used to either.
But, with the rain, there was the first hint of seasonal change. I stood in the doorway listening to the thunder and the steady downfall of drops but on the air, there was a different scent … one of wistfulness and decay and change. I could almost hear whispered, through the downpour, wait and see … it’s coming.
In the morning, yellow leaves littered my deck – greeting me under cooler breezes and more temperate air. Ahh … so this is what breathing again feels like?! I feel like I’ve been holding my breath all summer. Stuff with mom, stuff with the political scene (always so much angst), stuff with the kids and family and friends … life! Just stuff. I think my tolerance for all “stuff” goes down the tubes and out the window when the temperature rises. Now that (the end is in sight) cooler days are coming – my patience and tolerance are gaining in strength and nature. Good. I think I’ll need that going forward!
I’ve planned a trip for myself to visit the NE next month. I hope my timing is so that the paths and roadways are lined with trees in full autumnal splendor and littered with the leaves of same that have let go and flitted down to the ground. I am an Autumn person 100% … my absolute favorite time of the year and I am beyond thrilled that I can spend some of it in a place that makes my heart sing and my soul soar.
I plan on eating my weight (the ONE great thing about this semi-walrus body) in lobster and blueberry anything while in ME. I’ll toodle up the coast from Portland to Wiscasset – grab a lobster roll (my first of a few, I hope) – and end up at a lovely, Victorian BnB in Rockland. From there I’ll amble along up to Camden (have always wanted to see it) and then mosey on up (full of lobster/ocean-willing) to Freedom, home of The Lost Kitchen. I am practically a stalker of this woman who has transformed her life and chef skills into a destination, lottery-seating-only mill restaurant in the middle of nowhere. I’m not lucky enough to go to the restaurant, but at least I will SEE it.
And from there it’s visiting in the countrysides of NH and VT … hoping to see more leaves, more gorgeous trees, maybe a bear or moose … and then I’ll drop down to explore Delaware. I am thinking that might be my next landing place. We’ll see. Lots to take in.
In the meantime, I’ll endure another week of 90s heat and blazing sun … and get my yard ready for fall by corralling my yard toys and putting my extra tools and supplies into bins for the cellar over winter. I feel I’ve hardly been out there enjoying my lit tiki torches or abundance of yard candles – it’s been too hot, too buggy, or it’s just not been in the cards. And so it goes – right? A little bit of wistful regret is mixed in with this burgeoning anticipation of cooler days and colorful trees and all things acorns and pumpkins. I am not quite ready for rusts, ambers, and olive greens or cozy, textured sweaters … but it’s coming.
Next weekend we will hail in the start of another month and September will be upon us and with it, another season. I can feel summer quietly slipping away … going, going … almost gone.