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20
Oct 22

271 words that say nothing

The forecast said we’d hit 60-some degrees today, which is an improvement from earlier in the week. The first day in a slight trend of warmer temperatures. But, as I ran errands this morning, it surely didn’t feel like it.

The Yankee had an appointment to make this morning. Some of her first times out and about, and so that is another sign of improvement. (She’s doing well and staying on the mend!) But she can’t drive herself yet, so I am now playing the role of executive chauffeur.

Here and back, here and back. You know how that goes. We had lunch in the car, just like the not-too-long-ago days. And that was when the sun finally burned off the clouds. That was worth 15 degrees, easy.

She came on campus after that for a meeting, and sat in my office for a while as I finished the day’s chores. A few of her students stopped by — she’s incredibly popular with the people who know the score. Stamina comes back over time, though, and the half day’s worth of activity wore her down. By the end of my work day, she was ready to go.

So we went!

At the house, we sat beneath this tree for a while, until the sun dipped low and the temperature started to slide back toward where the day started. And that’s the rhythm of things, isn’t it? No matter how far you go, how tired you get, you always come back to where you started.

One hopes, anyway.

The forecast calls for another week or more of warmer weather ahead.

One hopes.


20
Oct 22

Catober, Day 20


19
Oct 22

Where I poorly invent a new word we should never use again

These are the last good days of the maple in the backyard. Fall is falling fast, faster than normal, and real life has meant I haven’t paused much to see it. But this tree is pretty incredible at the moment. If you walk upstairs at the right time of day — after the sun has indicated it will, once again, go to the west — you can see something special right now.

All of that red bounces off the leaves, through the window into the bedroom, off the door and into a bit of the hall.

Which makes sense. It looks like that tree is on fire.

This is the moment where autumn feels helpless. Can’t appreciate it long enough for fear of the encroaching winter, worried you missed prime opportunities to soak it in earlier. I’m not sure if there’s even a word that describes it.

The Germans, of course, give us weltschmerz, which has to do with a deep sadness about the insufficiency of the world. In some contexts, the world can mean “the pain of the world.” Doesn’t that sound like the season’s late lament? A broader definition came to use just a generation later, by the mid 19th century, “a mood of weariness or sadness about life arising from the acute awareness of evil and suffering.”

Henry Miller, so maybe we’re on to something here. But maybe this is a slight step removed from weltschmerz — John Steinbeck, Ralph Ellison and Kurt Vonnegut used it, too. So maybe, let’s call it … fallui, autumn’s languor.


19
Oct 22

Catober, Day 19


18
Oct 22

Catober, Day 18