Inspired in part by Jo(e)'s post on the last nice day, I spent some time thinking about today as the first crisp day. It was around 60 degrees today, a glorious blue sky, and the air just felt crisp. Fall is settling in, getting ready to turn to winter. Some of the trees are in full color; others have lost their leaves. It's been windy, and the leaf piles are growing. Gardens are in transition: some covered in leaf piles, some with roses blooming, some with a few blossoms here or there, some with dying foliage. The colors of the season are varied--muted looking in one direction, riotously orange and red in another.
We've just started construction on a major home renovation, and that's added another color around our house: grey for the sand, concrete and cinderblocks piling up around back. And brown for the mud which is getting tracked back and forth by various big yellow digging machines and delivery trucks. The neighbors (especially the kids) are eagerly tracking the construction progress, and Curious Girl runs out back daily to say "my bedroom is going to be THIS TALL!" (holding her hand up as high as she can reach).
Fall smells good. We went to Curious Girl's violin lesson this morning (Suzuki is a wonderful thing) and her teacher was cooking up something for dinner. Oil and garlic suffused the house. It's a good winter smell, a smell that you can linger on as you sit somewhere warm and read, or play music, or just snuggle with a cat on the couch. The leaves smell good, the air smells good. This time of year makes me want to be outdoors to watch the turn of season, and to be indoors to nest. Anything is possible. Although the days are shortening, it feels like a hopeful time of year. Things are percolating, grooming themselves to grow in their own time.
We have about a month left of classes, and my students are turning the corner, figuring out how to get their work done, making good plans for final projects or portfolios. I'm thinking about what to cook for Thanksgiving. I'm settling into a writing project, slowly making a good rhythm, albeit a slow one. I'm getting a cozy fall-winter routine worked up. I like it.
And on this day when the sun shone, and the air felt good, we went to the hospital and our wonderful surgeon popped out Curious Girl's g-tube. She has a big bandage on her belly, and she'll probably have a big scar on one side of her belly button, and a story to tell about how she couldn't swallow as a baby. But she won't have a belly tube. On this day, she was oh so brave for this quick procedure. And her mamas are oh so proud.