Much like the first robin you see in winter is a harbinger of spring; I’ve found the first harbinger of autumn. On the shelves of my local grocer I found a cool, gleaming six-pack of Samuel Adams Octoberfest. And it couldn’t have come at a better time. It’s been uglier than an inbred possum the last few weeks. I think the temperature is being measured in Kelvin and the air quality is being referred to as chunky. It’s been so hot the kudzu won’t grow, the day laborers won’t loiter, and the crack heads have switched to dry ice. A little bit of Sammy helps wash away the mental stink of summer. Not with alcoholic diffusion but with sensory recall. Octoberfest beer fast forwards me to that time of long sleeves, heavy comforters, and god-like slumber. Everyone seems to catch their breath and revise their view of the world in October, whether they know it or not. It’s that final pause before the whirlwind idiocy of the holidays, followed by the mildly hollow letdown of the post-New Year winter. For my money, there are few better things than the smell of a neighborhood full of fireplaces in effect on a frigid night. All of these things are imminent, says that little half-full bottle on my desk. Thank you Jim, I needed that.
Ares
1 comment:
I am going to Tucson in two weeks. Remember, it it above 90 dry or not it is hot. Here the harbinger of autumn are the later blooming plants, mums had such are getting into good shape. Athena's sister is in a bad mood because of increased hours due to back to school. This too means autumn is upon us, the father figure working like a squirrel shaping and stacking wood. Here winter is such that the population you work with hibernate for the most part, it is just too cold to get into mischief. But we have to shovel the white stuff.
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