As some of you know, I used to live in Dallas. I spent many years there. So long, in fact, that I’d forgotten there was such a thing as seasons. Then I moved to Philly for a bit, and discovered winter. Can’t say I liked it much. Snow shoveling is not my idea of a good time.
In Rockville for my second Fall season, I find myself once again fascinated by the actual change of seasons. I know, it sounds odd. But in Dallas there’s really only two seasons: Good God It’s Hot, and If We Stay In The Shade We Won’t Need The Air Conditioner. I didn’t own a coat. Or a snow shovel. The trees went from fully clothed to an abrupt de-robing somewhere in February. One day they had leaves, the next, they’d shriveled and died with no real warning and certainly no real change of color. You didn’t really have to clear the leaves from your lawn. The wind would blow them away. At least, that was my approach.
So now in Rockville, the leaves take their sweet time clinging to the trees. Hanging out in their Sunday best. Painting the landscape as early as September and lingering even now in November. It’s awfully nice of them, I have to say. Though I can tell we’re one good windstorm away from naked trees, I did manage to get one more glimpse at nature’s show.
Yes, I went Out.
It was nice!
Now back to words, words, words. Tarian is in trouble, and when she’s in trouble the rest of the country is in trouble too. She has a way of having global problems, rather than personal ones. This time I’m not entirely sure how she’s going to save us all. Neither is she, I have a feeling.