As if to underscore the point, a squirrel loped up the street in the bright, cool morning, bearing a bulbous bit of sustenance in its jaws. I've never known what those fruit-like things are, but I do know that squirrels gather them in the fall ... and fall is coming. The squirrel says so, the cool of the air says so, the arrival of the nearby Three County Fair (traditionally held on or around Labor Day) says so and ...
When I asked my youngest son why he was up so early today, he informed me that he had to go to school. For some reason, I had thought he was returning to high school -- as a senior -- next week. And when I asked, in my just-got-out-of-bed haze, if he needed a ride, he said no, "I've got the van." I knew that, but had somehow not pieced it together in the earliness of the day.
Soon, the leaves will begin to fall, but already the leaves of my mind are littering the path at my feet and my dwelling is as silent as the air.
Senior moments, I know them well. Dreams and reality, past and present, life becomes a kaleidoscopic blur. But maybe it was always so, and I was lost in feeble beliefs of control.ReplyDelete