I actually wrote about my near-death experience this weekend -- and now cannot find it! Please enjoy a re-post from September of 2011 whilst I dig through my fancy new Mac...
The amplified music rolls over roofs, down alleys, spills into the house. I pause in the kitchen, knife poised over the last of the truly good cucumbers, tilt my head to listen as an amplified voice chatters excitedly in some Latin American tongue. Since my Spanish is limited to being able to ask for “one more, please” or to understand that if I “marco dos” I will hear the information regarding my bank account in a language other than my own, I have no idea what he’s saying, only that high, childish voices cheer and chant when he finishes.
The sound is confusing, muffled and bouncing among the two- and three-story houses. Jeff, two blocks away, sends a text: Is there music in the park today? He refers to the large park across the street. I go out onto the porch. There had been two shifts of Hispanic families and their futbol teams, the inevitable ice cream man trolling hopefully at their outskirts; but the park is empty now.
It’s a beautiful day, the kind that reminds you of summer’s fragility. Sure the leaves are green, the sky brilliantly blue, but every night, the temperature dips just a little bit lower, and the mornings now beg the question: Do I wear a jacket, knowing I won’t need it in the afternoon?
The quiet approach of fall – like the muffling silence of a blizzard – brings somberness with it. The wind blows in ever-cooler gusts, and something primordial in the back of my mind whispers “Store up. Make sure there will be enough.”
The music drifts over my roof and through my windows: a bass guitar, an electric piano, and a man’s plaintive voice.
I still can’t tell where it’s coming from or what he’s talking about, but it sounds like “say good-bye”.
The amplified music rolls over roofs, down alleys, spills into the house. I pause in the kitchen, knife poised over the last of the truly good cucumbers, tilt my head to listen as an amplified voice chatters excitedly in some Latin American tongue. Since my Spanish is limited to being able to ask for “one more, please” or to understand that if I “marco dos” I will hear the information regarding my bank account in a language other than my own, I have no idea what he’s saying, only that high, childish voices cheer and chant when he finishes.
The sound is confusing, muffled and bouncing among the two- and three-story houses. Jeff, two blocks away, sends a text: Is there music in the park today? He refers to the large park across the street. I go out onto the porch. There had been two shifts of Hispanic families and their futbol teams, the inevitable ice cream man trolling hopefully at their outskirts; but the park is empty now.
It’s a beautiful day, the kind that reminds you of summer’s fragility. Sure the leaves are green, the sky brilliantly blue, but every night, the temperature dips just a little bit lower, and the mornings now beg the question: Do I wear a jacket, knowing I won’t need it in the afternoon?
The quiet approach of fall – like the muffling silence of a blizzard – brings somberness with it. The wind blows in ever-cooler gusts, and something primordial in the back of my mind whispers “Store up. Make sure there will be enough.”
The music drifts over my roof and through my windows: a bass guitar, an electric piano, and a man’s plaintive voice.
I still can’t tell where it’s coming from or what he’s talking about, but it sounds like “say good-bye”.
.jpg)
22 comments:
Sigh. True loveliness.
And wait- near death experience? What did I miss???
It's a good time of year:-) Maybe it was the Wiggles. The Latin American ones. So we get two posts today?? Well done, Mac, well done.
Near-death? I hope Mac gives up the goods . . .
Congrats on the Mac, can you say "learning curve" ? yes even macs have them. You may have accidentally drug the file or folder into another folder. I do that frequently while scrolling the screen, the cursor wanders off...OOPS!
Hari OM
...it is one of my favourite times of the temperate year, that crossover from summer blue to autumn true as the year falls into winter. I understand that 'primoridial' bit. I start to think of red and green and the candle scene... sigh. Thanks for setting up the image!! YAM xx
I won't have access to the Mac until this evening, but I better find it there...
Fall is lovely. People here (Minneapolis) adore summer, but honestly, by the end of it we are tired of temps in the 90s and look longingly to our sweaters and our ovens and think "soon... soon..."
new Mac, near death experience - I'm not sure which is more exciting. I'm a big Mac addict from long ago. Oh the finder window has a great search tool in the upper right corner.
Congrats on the new Mac. I have never used one but my friends swear by them. And I for one am so ready for autumn...my absolute fave :)
See. Now this is a spare and masterful job, Pearl. WRITING. LIVING. PEARL!
Aloha
This is beautiful. You have captured the melancholy of the change of seasons so well.
But I'm one of those who welcomes the cooler weather with Tigger-like enthusiasm. Goodbye, summer, I know ye'll not be back for a long time *sniff* ... FALL! old buddy, old pal! Am I glad to see you!
Also, the near death experience? I am torn between wanting to know and dreading to hear ...
I''m also wIing to hear about your prejudice against horses....same story?
Sometimes I loose posts or parts of posts in my head. You have to use caution trying to retrieve them. Entities (voices) can get hurt.
Is it strange that, even though I love this post, I can't stop thinking about what your near death experience was all about?
You can't see me, but I'm pressing F5 like a mad fiend in hopes that I catch this upcoming update.
The changing of the seasons... the weather is so screwy here, the plants and trees are confused.
We don't have fall here. Usually the snow flies before the leaves turn. Sigh. Actually, we do have two seasons though: winter and construction.
These are the days when I DON'T take a jacket, because I know I won't need it on the way home and a little cool in the mornings isn't too hard to bear. It's warming up downunder.
Beautiful post, and yes, really see the fragility of the summer these days. Thanks for stopping by my blog also. Have a wonderful day
Hi Pearl, thanks for stopping by. I have enjoyed visiting your lovely blog with its enjoyable read this morning. I look forward to coming back. Have a great day!
Oh, Pearl. This is good stuff.
I'm taking Spanish in school this semester. (I tried to tell them I'm an English major. They didn't care.)From what I gather, "Marco Dos" is NOT a blind man's swimming pool game, which would have been my guess.
I wish we were near Fall. It's still 95, and my beautiful new sweaters are lying useless in the drawers.
Post a Comment