goodbye, and thanks for all the fish

there's been no poetry in me of late.
what chases the poetry out of someone? is it a dullness of color in the world, or perhaps just a dullness of sight? probably the latter because as i sit here in the morning hours, even under a dense gray sky, the greens and browns are flourishing, shaking themselves dry from last night's shower. it is taking a lot of effort for me to tune my eyes to the song of nature this past couple of months.
it's hard for me to write poetry about summer. although I appreciate all that summer has to offer, i must confess that my soul feels dormant, sleeping until the heat passes over, waiting to wake again when the first breath of fall blows in to refresh me.
it is ironic how fall is my favorite season. it's a season of change, and i usually find myself bucking against change. but fall is also about harvest--bringing in the spoils of labor, gathering with others to enjoy and remember. and...well, and it's beautiful. yes, it's one of the only things in this world that could begin to convince me that change--as painful as it may be--is also vibrant, promising and lovely.


ah, what a bad omen this morning: a lonely school bus making its rounds down my street, extending it's arm for a second to my neighbors, then moving on, rejected. it reminds me that in a few short weeks, i will be standing before my students giving my initial speech of the year ("good morning, students, my name is Mrs. Fissel...") and handing out a syllabus that students and parents will sign, but not read.

"i wanna die with you" crones my teenage neighbor along with his music. i can hear him through the window, open to admit the fan they placed there this morning. he's a little tone deaf, but i can appreciate the sentiment. there are ants invading my coffee cup but i must remember that i am imposing upon their territory this morning. okay....maybe a little more than tone deaf, if there is such a level of inability to hear musical notes.

i am losing another friend in a few weeks. i suppose in some ways, i should be thankful that these transitions have happened so quickly in my life--i guess its like ripping off a band-aid instead of slowly pulling it away from the skin. maybe i should be more specific: another of my close friends is moving away in two weeks. i know that i am by no means losing her as a friend, but i am losing her company, her closeness and the ability to be spontaneous with her. i have many dear friends here in the 'Boro, but at each "loss," it becomes more and more clear to me that they all play a special role in my life and are, therefore, absolutely irreplaceable. this friend is my cuddle buddy, and my bike riding buddy, and one of the best listeners in my life. i am thankful that we've both been available to be together a lot this summer--a secret gift, perhaps, from a God who knew what was coming even though none of us were sure. despite the selfishness of my rant, i will say that i am overjoyed at the reason for their moving and, well, its an answer to prayers that I prayed, so what do i have to complain about?

i remember at the beginning of the summer, in June, looking "far" into the future to this week of July with terror--terror that it would come to soon, and so i put it out of my mind (or tried). i have had a fabulous summer this year. i spent some precious time with people i almost never get to see, and spent time enjoying the sunshine. i slept in some mornings, or got up like today, to enjoy coffee outside before the sun moved in for the kill (it's been in the 100's this summer so i'm sure you understand where all this enmity is coming from, readers....). i traveled to see loved ones and spent long, quiet hours listening to waves crash and massaging my feet in the sand. i even went out of the country to expand my experience with beaches and to be alone with my husband. i played "mom" for a couple of weeks, taking care of house guests, cleaning my kitchen a dozen times a day (or so it felt). i've played a ludicrous amount of speed scrabble. and although i have some dread of that first day of school with students--getting up at 5am, hearing the bell ring, facing an entire new group of faces with nervousness and expectation--i dont feel as alarmed about the second, third, fourth days, or the months until next June. in fact, along with my husband, i have ceased to be able to "see" that far into our future. i'm not sure what the next year has in store for us. i dont think i could have guessed all that happened this year--with friendships and finances and church. maybe that's why i'm not doing much guessing about the next.

he's a little better at rapping than singing. i guess everyone has their niche.