equinox
Just before each footfall dozens of crickets jumped for safety across the field on the top of Mary’s Peak, where Operaman and I drove on Friday night to catch the last camping of summer. It was warm and bright until it wasn’t. And then it was icy cold and clear. It was the kind of camping night where you pull the sleeping bag over your head just to fill the inside with warm exhalations, just to wake your skin enough to sleep.So there’s no doubt about it, this was the weekend when summer rocked into fall, and there are leaves on the ground and general dis-ease and sometimes the chill is enough to make you aware of the inside of your nose. We walked around the Oregon State University campus where Operaman’s classes start tomorrow. It seemed an appropriately fall thing to do.
Tomorrow is my first day of my first full-time work week for the city, and who knows what happens after that. Last week I gave a tour of brownfields to twenty women training for careers in the skilled trades, and I knew what I was doing, and it felt good. I also got issued a hard hat. Which is a useful thing to have around in the fall, even though fall isn’t full of the kind of surprises that tumble down on your head, necessarily. It’s more full of the kind of slow surprises that unroll from the inside out.
Today the sun spent the same amount of time below the horizon as above it, but that didn’t make day and night the same length. That’s a myth. Because the upper edge of the sun is already up, being daytime, when the middle crosses the line. Fall is in the details. I’m curious and a little nervous about what that could mean.
posted by tortaluga @ 11:23 AM
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