It is chilly in this small valley, but the stars explode over the zinnia. The air is clear and the cats are eager to hunt. So I open their window...
I feel the withdrawal from the Abilify, not in so many words, but in a fragile air of uncertainty that passes me like a lost ghost. I increase my dose of Omega 3 fatty acids to stem any oncoming tide of insecurity. It's not as if I foresee any happening, at least I hope not...I just would like to be ready for any onset of the depression that visited me last winter.
But for now, the sun is the lemon color that I love, the color of fall, the color of stones on fire. Outside my door, the zinnia reach taller and taller, in an attempt to reach the shifting light. The geranium and the scarlet begonia are the same as they have been, constants in this world of change. The grass under the trees is gold here, and the deep emerald of summer is muted. What I call 'grasshopper' grass grows now, with the seeded stems that stand above the grass.
I would like to share with you the wonder at the stars that I felt this morning, while I was taking Max out. After a summer of clouds, to see the stars so clearly, is a herald of the winter sky. Have you ever camped out under the stars in the winter? Set up a lounge chair, left from the summer supply, with a sleeping bag, and some coffee. Curl up, under the wind from the stars, whispering to each other, and watching the Huntsman chase other stars across the sky.
Max and the unicorn meat eating cats are ready for a Sunday morning. Which is, as everything else in the suburbs, a ritual. Mow the lawn on Friday or Saturday, and then the coffee and newspaper on Sunday. Sometimes a visit to your favorite place of worship, and sometimes not.
The coffee is very good this morning, and I am lucky to have blueberries and strawberries to chase it, later. The water is not as cool as the outside air, but it quenches the thirst, after a swallow of coffee. I do not feel sad at the end of summer, just a gratitude for another year, and another morning like this one.