June 10th, 2012

caillebotte_man at his window

The Approach to the Departure

It was one of those afternoons I'd that would have been perfect to spend sitting in dappled shade by a stream, maybe with a small waterfall nearby— one just big enough to make a pleasant sound as soft as the breezes and as bright as the green, sunlit leaves. Lacking such amenities, I made do with a stream from the garden hose splashing among the lamb's ear and around the oleanders. I had the whole afternoon, as my weekly shopping trip has been delayed until tomorrow. It's going to be hot tomorrow. I hope I'm not tempted to blow my food budget on tempting but costly early-season watermelons.

Creeping up on the summer solstice makes me a bit sad. A month from now the evenings will be getting noticeably shorter again, and the jasmine will be fading. Despite all the tasty fruit it brings, summer always seems to me a long decline. I know there are autumn's color and longer nights of stars ahead, but I'll miss the freshness of spring and the new growth. It might be different if I lived in a place with summer rains, but here there is so much dessication as the season proceeds. Brown fields have pleasures of their own to give, but to me they don't compare with the delights of green spring.

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