October Reflections [1991]

[Passage from my journal, 1 October 1991]

I

t’s October already, and it only feels like a day or two has gone by since I last wrote, but it’s been over a week. Do we care? Summer is back, hot days but cooler nights. This has got to be about the end of it, however, since the year is so far advanced. It’s really only beginning to look like autumn—leaves falling and morning frost and occasional fog—High Autumn—this is more like Indian Summer. In some ways this is the most beautiful time of year; yeah, I know this is a bunch of garbage thrown out to disguise the fact that I can’t remember enough of what happened in the gap, but bear with me. You get all the benefits of True Summer—sun, chicks in shorts and miniskirts, not having to wear a coat, being able to go places without getting wet—without the damn wet heat, shirt sticking to your back, sleepless nights of True Summer. And Indian Summer has the same nostalgic quality as a sunset—it looks back on what was, rather than ahead to what will be; it has more in common with the past than with the future. Oh, it’s true we lose the long lazy summer afternoons that last till bedtime, but isn’t that made up for by the crisp autumn evenings, with the winter stars just beginning to show themselves? [1 Oc 1991]