It’s too early to claim that fall was a fantastic season, full of color and dramatic, mostly warm weather. But, if you judge the season by the first day, I’m falling for fall in a big way.
The first day of fall was sunny, crisp and colorful, with a dusting of white snow on the high peaks that look down on us all. This week is going to be high and dry with temperatures creeping back to the warm end.
The Aspen Skiing Co. has already announced opening day on Aspen Mountain and Snowmass but Nov. 24 is a long way off and a lot will happen before we reach that potentially magic moment. The elephant in the room is the Nov. 5 election, but I’m not going to let that tension spoil my mood today.
I remember reading somewhere that the term “Indian Summer” could be offensive. Something about tracks in the snow. After dragging my screen through the internet, I can no longer find that reference, but I’m going to retire the words from my jargon, starting soon. The term “Indian” could be considered offensive by many, especially Native Americans, who were mistakenly thought by early European explorers to be Indians.
There’s a very nice park in Philadelphia called, “Columbus Square Park.” There is a towering concrete sculpture standing in tribute to Columbus. On one side of the slab it reads, “Christopher Columbus, Charismatic Leader — Navigator.”
The dude never even set foot on the shores of North America. On Oct. 12, 1492 he landed in the Bahamas on his mission to sail to Asia. When he popped in on the native Taino population of Hispaniola (Haiti/Dominican Republic), the charismatic leader wrote in his diary that, “They were very well built, with very handsome bodies and very good faces. They do not carry arms or know them … they should be good servants.” People fighting the “war on woke” will not be happy to hear of this. They will stick with “charismatic leader.”
But today I’m torn; torn between the urge to crawl down the sidewalk on my hands and knees until I find the warmest pavement and the urge to find my place in a world gone mad.
I’ll make no excuses. The summer-like fall has me in its spell. With sunshine warm enough to spoil the yogurt, I’m surprised the rest of my fellow cubicle dwellers aren’t spooning while curling up on the grass in the park right now. I might just sneak around town and change the lawn signs to read, “Vote Orb” and “Sunshine Express.”
Today it will be the black T-shirt. The dark fabric will absorb the heat of the sun and maximize the yummy warmth. And like a new love it will end early, with the sun ducking out and the chill swishing in. I must find a way to heat the bones all the way through before Father Winter draws the curtains for months on end, plunging me into an icy embrace.
I have to figure out little ways to ward off the dark monsters that creep around our society during the big elections. I don’t want to get in the way of the Chicken Littles getting the word out that, yes, the sky is falling. But the sunshine feels so good.
Yes, it’s all about balance. I don’t want to get worked into a lather like some Looney Tunes conspiracy theorist screaming at YouTube and blasting off the social media posts to anyone who will click a link.
No! Better to get back to sharing a spot of unobstructed sunshine. The orb does a lot more than lift the mood. It restores and fills inner reservoirs of vitamin D. The skin is the messenger and the bones are actually thickened and strengthened by solar channeling. People should get naked on days like today just to make sure they are getting enough.
Of course, nudity has its pitfalls. Anyone who has been to a nude beach or a nudist colony already knows that the people you hope to see naked are clothed and the ones you don’t aren’t. Best to expose the flanks in cloistered spaces and discreet expansive private gardens from which others are excluded.
I will try to follow my heart. I will listen as it whispers to my feet to get outside in the sunshine and rock like a baby in a cradle. I will listen to the still wind lulling me back into the open for one more day of being hopelessly human, hopelessly hopeful and mindlessly comfortable.
For when the valley closes in and the days turn into brief, gray interludes between the impersonal cold nights, I will need to call on the vitamin D reserves stored in my sunshine receptors. When the dust settles on the election I will be winding my mind back to long days on the river with sunshine in bountiful supply and cooling waters to soothe my ancient flesh like an aloe bath.
It’s today that we all share. Whether you want to drill here or change now, may we all stop for a moment and cast our faces up — and marvel — at the sun.
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Publish date : 2024-09-23 22:30:00
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