About half an inch of crusty, heavy snow flattens the grass and arcs weak branches under its weight. On certain trees who have managed to retain their leaves, when the snow piles up on one of the dangling ornaments of past life, it falls with an icy thud. The roads, however, are only wet and glossy from the snow. Im surprised it is sticking at all. Two days ago we had the windows open and people walked the streets in shorts and t-shirts, enjoying a daytime high that reached 89. The last snow was reduced to a fuzzy memory and the future was bright. Over the last week we had a couple days of dense fog that was reminiscent of Walt Whitman's opening lines to his poem, "To Autumn," reading, "Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness/close bosom friend of the maturing sun/conspiring with him how to load and bless/with fruit the vines that round the thatch eves run." And yesterday as I rode my bike home from school, a northern wind blew and raked leaves across streets, knocked the weakest links from trees and chilled my fingers to the bone. By the time I had arrives home, a blanket of fog and whirling mist shrouded the city, walling off one city block from the other.
The sunny days and frequent wet weather of autumn make Whitman's lines reality. It does feel like the sun and the mists become bosom buddies during this time of the year, taking shifts to delight to those who enjoy their handiwork.
So, until we actually have a real "snow" that causes horns to honk and tires to slip, closes schools and frustrates every living being in Denver, I will keep it to myself, enjoying the flurries in the confines of a small nook just off our kitchen.
2 comments:
well, its windless splotting rain and 60 degrees here. the colverts are full of sludge-leaves and you have to wear a heavy tarp to go outside, which becomes hot and sweaty.
i like to bathe by riding my bike to work naked with a bar of soap and a towel. in the meantime, at work we've been practicing de-ice proceedures by climbing into the boom arm bucket of a truck and sraying watery *glycol (tastes like anti-freeze) all over our jets. this is all to prepare for snow; for our three days of snow a year.
its depressing to sit in a bucket and pretent it's snowing, and to look east and see Mt. Hood getting browner by the hour. and it's too wet to skate.
by on the bright side, my wife broke her arm, and now my paychecks are getting garnished for med bills! when it rains it pours.
despite the obvious, it's actually been one of the best autumns i can remember. i park underneath a big oak tree at our appartment, and my car gets caked in huge, soggy red leaves that look like pulled pork. i park there intentionally. a guy could almost eat them, if they were Kosh.
Ah Jason, I smile. In a way I think that you are a mini-me; but I also understand that you are your very own person that God has made. And yet...I rejoice in our similarities and relish the vision of the things you write. Am so much looking forward to being with you and sharing this love of season together! Love, love, love you. Mom
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