Sunday, September 16, 2012

To play


It’s tempting to say that fall leaves have never made me sad, and on a strict level that may be true. I've always dreaded summer, and looked forward to fall. So amazing that I arrived in Santa Fe just before the leaves started to fall, and so exciting when they did – I’d spent the last 10 falls in San Francisco, where when the leaves fall off certain trees you just look at those trees like they're confused. They are confused.

            Two falls in Santa Fe, and nothing could be more beautiful than that season in that place, even if. Well, we already know: even if there was nothing else besides that beauty. But when I say that on a strict level it may be true that the fall leaves have never made me sad, that it's always been a relief when summer has come to an end, it's also true that as soon as fall begins there's something in my body that triggers I kind of sadness, a closing off, something internal and confusing. Really this happens with every seasonal shift, but fall is always the most surprising because I've always looked forward to it.

Here it's different: as soon as summer starts, people are debating whether it's over. And, I've never lived somewhere where I've loved summer: this is the first time. As soon as I sensed the fall air blowing in, that gorgeous cool moisture that I've always loved, I started to get scared. What will I do on my walks in the morning, if I can't lie down in the sun in Volunteer Park? And now that, even on a warm day, the nights become chilly, something that I always appreciated about San Francisco, but when that happens here I become worried: is it over, already?

The truth is that the last few months have been so stunningly gorgeous. The truth is that, when it really starts raining the air will be so fresh and I will love that too. The truth is that I don't even like the heat, if I have to do anything besides go to the park, or to the beach, if I have to sit anywhere in the sun without taking my clothes off. For the first few months after I arrived, people kept apologizing: it's not usually this bad. Or: this is been the worst winter ever. But now I receive a phone call from the distance, Pacific Northwest relocated to Idaho, receiving news of a potential record streak of sunny days: you picked the right year to move to Seattle.

I think I did pick the right year, the year when it's the right place for me. Even if my health is still so awful and overwhelming. Even if I still don't know if and/or when things will get better, better for me. Still now I walk outside, a few more fall leaves now than when I first started to notice them and I think oh, this is beautiful, I love these leaves, I want to play. Today I'm trying to stay out of the sun because I think I'm getting burnt. I always worry that I'm getting burnt, but then it's not really happening but now I think it's really happening. It's hard to stay out of the sun when you're not sure how much longer it will last.

 

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