Half-Season
You know those days that are neither spring nor summer ... neither summer nor autumn ... neither autumn nor winter ... neither winter nor spring? These are the half-season days, the magical twilight between change and change.
Today, and the last few days, have been such. I wear a long-sleeved shirt to work, but I wear it with shorts. Going to Starbucks for coffee to get me through an evening of extra work, I step up to the counter and order hot coffee... and it seems right. Socks feel good; my feet are no longer happy to be bare to the night breezes. The skin on my arms and legs grows shivery sometimes.
I love every moment of it. During the dog-days that we had earlier this month I was miserable, hounded by the panting heat---licked up with sweat and daily headaches. But the aurae grow sweet and cool. Suddenly the opaque whiteness of thin sheets seems too thin, too translucent. The silent, mood-receptive part of my mind dreams in rich colors. It craves flame-orange and russet and a blue like plums drowned in wine.
My thoughts become more nimble each day. My imagination is sharpening to the taste of approaching fall. I want to crisp forth in frost-edged crimson words. Fairies throng the halls---I walk in amber light and sleep on greenness. I am a gay careless smile; I am a whisper; I am the memory you forgot one day when you bent down to tie your shoe.
This season fills me with images. I tasted your laughter yesterday, O Green Tree. It tasted like rain. How many bits of bits are you, gentle reader? How many parts of parts? Have you ever been in love with a whole? I have. I am.
Oh, God, I'm so happy! Is this what you made me for?
Today, and the last few days, have been such. I wear a long-sleeved shirt to work, but I wear it with shorts. Going to Starbucks for coffee to get me through an evening of extra work, I step up to the counter and order hot coffee... and it seems right. Socks feel good; my feet are no longer happy to be bare to the night breezes. The skin on my arms and legs grows shivery sometimes.
I love every moment of it. During the dog-days that we had earlier this month I was miserable, hounded by the panting heat---licked up with sweat and daily headaches. But the aurae grow sweet and cool. Suddenly the opaque whiteness of thin sheets seems too thin, too translucent. The silent, mood-receptive part of my mind dreams in rich colors. It craves flame-orange and russet and a blue like plums drowned in wine.
My thoughts become more nimble each day. My imagination is sharpening to the taste of approaching fall. I want to crisp forth in frost-edged crimson words. Fairies throng the halls---I walk in amber light and sleep on greenness. I am a gay careless smile; I am a whisper; I am the memory you forgot one day when you bent down to tie your shoe.
This season fills me with images. I tasted your laughter yesterday, O Green Tree. It tasted like rain. How many bits of bits are you, gentle reader? How many parts of parts? Have you ever been in love with a whole? I have. I am.
Oh, God, I'm so happy! Is this what you made me for?
posted by Praelucor at 8:16 PM
5 Comments:
Artistry. Pure and simple.
Or nearly simple; deceptively simple...
You make me laugh deep and inaudibly, feeling the colors and the rich rays as they sink in. It's like a sigh.
Socktrine!
God made you for Heaven, and this is a taste of it. :) When beauty is so beautiful, it is too much... and not enough... all at once.
I thought about assigning your post as an assignment in literary analysis for my teens. But with their current workload they'd kill me!
This was lovely, Christy. I don't read your blog (this was sent to me by my son John) but I can see I need to make it back here more often.
Bits I loved:
"These are the half-season days, the magical twilight between change and change.
"Socks feel good; my feet are no longer happy to be bare to the night breezes. The skin on my arms and legs grows shivery sometimes.
"...hounded by the panting heat---licked up with sweat ...
"Suddenly the opaque whiteness of thin sheets seems too thin, too translucent.
"My imagination is sharpening to the taste of approaching fall. [What a cool sentence!]
"...I am a gay careless smile; I am a whisper..." [Don't know what you call this "I am" device, but it really works here.]
Some of the thoughts, tis true, sailed right over my head, but the language was so interesting I didn't mind. :-)
My heart resonates with your appreciation of creation. Sometimes when I walk in the woods, or even just down my pretty street, I feel like I'm walking in the midst of the great and wonderful Silence. You sense that everything has meaning, and the happiness of the heart sometimes brings tears to the eyes.
Thanks for sharing.
Vicki Schellhase
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