Deception Pass State Park, by D$
It's been wet and grey here in Portland this weekend, and I am blissful.
Autumn has arrived, bringing me peace.
It drizzled all day yesterday and is drizzling today. Leaves adorn the sidewalks and the air smells fresh. The city is cleaning itself and I am cleansed as well. Saturday morning, awaking to rain, I felt my body and soul sighing in relief. I felt calm and peaceful for the first time in weeks. My shoulders loosened. My mind relaxed. I allowed myself hours to read on the couch without feeling guilty. I felt like cooking, and did.
Sometime Saturday afternoon I noticed that I'd run several errands, seen relatives and still felt relaxed. At no point during the day did I begin to feel frantic with tasks undone. Towards the evening when D$ was napping and I was finished reading and was making dinner, it hit me. Summer is not my season. As much as I love sunshine and daylight, summer stresses me the fuck out. Too many things I should be doing. People in and out of town, sunshine that I have to take advantage of, poorly organized barbecues to attend. Obligations, albeit fun obligations, to a person who wants to snuggle inside, who craves hours alone, who sunburns and sweats profusely and dreads organized sporting events.
But fall. Fall is my season. I feel at home - most strongly myself - in the light drizzle and the grey light. Mine is a constitution uniquely formulated for rain, cold breezes, and warm sweaters. In the summer I enjoy the warmth and the frolics (and the vegetables) but I am not at home.
Autumn makes sense to me. In the fall, I fit in. Less daylight is replaced by warm lamplight from homes and shop windows. Hot chocolate and popcorn are reasonable dinner entrees. My favorite hoodie/jacket combination is pulled out of the closet, along with scarves and boots and sweaters. There is Halloween to look forward too, and Thanksgiving, and even Christmas. Nesting and burrowing are not only allowed, they are practically called for and I am happy - relieved, even - to oblige.
Sigh. Thank god you're back, Autumn. I've missed you.