The summer is quickly turning to fall here in the Pacific Northwest, and you know what happens during the change of seasons. As the living things around us begin to re-adjust, you can’t help but mirror the shifting, reconsidering the little space in this world that you’ve rested so comfortably in since the rains disappeared. And now, when we wake up in the mornings and it’s cold and foggy, the damp seems eminent; we realize that we have to dress differently, eat differently, and circle around to the months where our schedules accomodate darkness as part of our waking day.
All this is sort of exciting, and we are buying sweaters and socks in preparation. Pulling out the soup recipes, the hot cocoa powder, the mellow music. Modern Times, incedentally, will be the perfect fall/winter album, along with Beirut’s Gulag Orkestar.
Weather changes many things, and here in the higher latitudes, it’s announces it’s movements with quite predictable regularity. Luckily, we still have afternoons of glory, but soon those will disappear as well, and we will have moments of shine but no longer will there be weeks, months. Until next year. At least we can depend on that.
The change of seasons always throws me off. And I think everyone should be shaken from the tree now and then, so that they must find a way to climb back up. It’s the climbing, after all, that’s the thrilling part. I like that we can depend on the seasons for that.
This is a time of year when the songs are able to come together, because I can step back from the chaos of the sunlight. In the summer it’s usually too bright to be able to see much; cloud cover makes the light flat enough that the pearls stand out quite on their own, as long as one is looking.
Maybe that’s the problem I’ve been having with “Season’s Game,” which has been in the works for a good three years now, maybe more. The message is off, because it’s not that nothing ever really changes – everything changes. It could be that I’ve had the words wrong this whole time. We’ll have to see about that.
Listening to old Aimee Mann right now – I’m With Stupid. It’s absolutely perfect.