seasons of in-between

There's something about fall that puts me in the mind for writing. Something about the sly slice of cold in the air; something about the breezes that blow through still-uncovered hair; something about the low sky, the dark clouds that make me want to go inside and dream up new worlds.

But wait, you say: it's August?

Oh well, summer 2010 - I've let you go. I'll let the cold bbq's and the green tomatoes and only-3-days-of-swimming go because, let's be honest, I've always loved autumn more. There's something about change, that must be it: ever a student, I feel the advent of sharpened pencils and wool skirts and lunches packed the night before coming, and I can't wait.

Seasons of in-between, seasons of change: I dedicate this post to you.

The last time this blog was updated R and I were not engaged. Since March, we have ... gotten engaged; had fights; made up; driven to DC (flew back, thanks-to-goodness); talked about The Future; decided that The Present is a better place to be; failed at that; laughed anyway. I've come to the conclusion that I am a very serious person, and made an earnest resolution to be more fun. I didn't realize the irony at the time.

And so when these winds blow up - when these seasons of change are upon us - how do we make our lives into neat little narratives? How do we live in our beginnings, middles, and ends, without sounding either too pat or too serious? Let's write one million stories, I'll say, let's write until our fingers are numb and the winter is really upon us. At which point I will say: hello spring, who I have loved all along.