Slipping Into September

Summer is still thundering outside as I write this. The summer months can bring a lot of drama instead of rain during our monsoon season. Yes, they call it that in New Mexico, even though a fifty percent chance of rain can only mean that someone's windshield in town will get dirty sometime during a hot afternoon when the sky clouds over. If only we did have a real shield from the wind!

One cannot leave an unattended sun umbrella up, or a plastic wading pool on the lawn without risking it ending up in a neighbor's yard while you are not keeping an eye on it. We even lost a tin shed forever one turbulent afternoon long ago. But we never have hurricanes. Or tornadoes. At least almost never.

I know it's no joke. My heart goes out to those suffering disaster during our times. Our times. Our times make each turning season into more than it would otherwise be. And now, an unfamiliar seeming September has arrived.

On the one hand I am numb. There is only so much one can do about the World except regarding what lives in your garden or sits in your own pantry. We have been careful in our community, and many conveniences are available again, since we have always had everything that we really needed anyway. And we have also become accustomed to some of the new realities.

I usually rebel against pumpkins in August, but this year it seems just fine! I know its all going to pass in a blur anyway. And white pumpkins are so smooth and pretty and fine.

My son just came in to announce that there is enough rain falling now to get things wet out there! Well, adios to another lovely but sizzling August! It is a fine way to say goodbye.

You may remember a line by Karen Blixen in Out of Africa when she becomes ill and trials befall her. (What an archaic word, befall!). She says, "...the earth was made round so that we would not see too far down the road." Slipping into September feels that way to me. Just sliding into yet another day on the calendar. And another. And another. Small enough chunks for me to manage.

My dear man is sick, and we have hard days ahead, as so many of us do. I have a very sad heart like Gladys Taber did when she wrote of September in The Book of Stillmeadow. "I felt the earth turning under my feet," she wrote, "and I felt the goodness of life above and under all the sad things." And it is our moment now to feel these things too if we can. And I hope we do.

The short rain has now finished for today. And there will be a cooling dusk before the day is done. And tomorrow brings September.

From my heart to yours,

Jacqueline