The End Of Days

The cicadas are singing in the trees, a cool breeze blows gently through the screens where I sit, and the smell of woodsmoke fills the air. It's September 5, 2005 - Labor Day - and in less than 18 hours, I will once again re-enter the world of the gainfully employed.



I've been on vacation since a week ago last Friday - ten days. It's been glorious. The weather was especially cooperative with temperatures hanging in the low eighties and a relative lack of humidity, giving the sense that summer is ending and autumn is on its way. Today has been the coolest so far, with clear, deep blue skies caused by the low humidity. It's like nature is giving us a glimpse into the future, when the days will shorten, and the nights will become cooler.

I had it all this week, with a few rainy days to start it off, followed by the hot, humid days we normally expect this time of year, and ending with this wonderfully rare, autumn-like day. Almost everyday was beach day and we took full advantage, surfing nearly every day and fishing when we weren't surfing. But that's the most ambitious I got. I didn't really take many pictures, nor do any writing whatsoever: two things I had expected to do. I did, however, do a good bit of reading. (Blue Like Jazz, A Walk In The Woods, Dress Your Family corduroyory And Denim)

In effect, I did what I could which was not much.

I did not think I would be ready to return to work, and in many ways I'm not, but the last few days, being such beautiful weather are almost enough to get me through the end of the year. Weather like this, absolutely has the power to lift my spirits. As much as I like summer, it's the end of the dog days of summer that make my heart sing.

The children will return to school. The air will grow crisp and the nights will descend sooner. But in the not too distant future, I will arrive home to find my children at the kitchen table, my wife stirring something delicious on the stove, a fire in the fireplace and my chair in front of it. I will pour myself a drink, my wife will join me in an opposite chair and we'll talk about Spring. Won't it be grand.