something about this just makes me feel old.



god save the village green


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another fake labour day spells september, spells the end of summer already, a few long weeks from the equinox.  we are left grasping at the first threads of 'what now?', hoping something tangible will reveal itself so that we can get a look before we have to feel, but we forget once again that the future does not come on in pieces: it arrives whole with arresting events, developments, decisions.

i sit outside and feel a cool evening breeze that in temperature does not prefigure the autumn air to come but, to me, internally, can mean nothing but.  i watched and felt the temperature rise these past few days that should have been cooling-- at one point last week the cool-down had felt so permanent that i even put together my annual fall mix cd lest i be caught on my lengthened daily commute without a fresh one, but such certainties are those of the inexperienced and willfully obtuse.

try this, though: fall has been interesting before and will be interesting again, 'interesting' here being meant with the same connotation as the old curse about living in interesting times. that is the certainty of someone who knows.

ask one of these trees.  they've seen me sit in this spot before, though perhaps not this early when they were this green, but to the quick i know they can read my thoughts and must spend night sighing knowingly to each other about me and everyone else-- 'why do they live and move in such circles,' they must think.  'they don't have to.'


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