The windbreak beyond the orchard now appears to loom nearby, where once I thought it was distant. The houses, once largely concealed by bushes and trees even in winter, now appear to crowd on one another as houses typically do on an ordinary suburban street. Everywhere I look I picture the ghosts of vanished vegetation. It is only when night falls and once again renders the buildings obscure that I can feel the space around me. Until then, I close my eyes and imagine myself in an open field or on a busy city street, either of which provides a greater sense of spaciousness than does this street as it has become.
It's been so warm today that I feel justified using a summer icon. This afternoon it was bumblebees buzzing around the roses, and this evening it's apt to be moths fluttering around the porchlight. It's not even the equinox yet. Shameful.
