Winds of Change

There was a lot of fall color left this past weekend. Most of the brilliant reds and oranges were gone—only an occasional bright maple, most sumac stripped of its leaves—but yellow and gold and bronze and brown and brown-edged butternut yellow were everywhere. The air scarcely stirred. Even after clouds hid the sun, beech and birch and popple seemed lit from within, brightening the day with their own self-generated energy. We had company over the weekend, and that meant less reading time, but it also meant more socializing and more time spent outdoors, which was a healthy and energizing change for all concerned.

As if Sunday’s calm had been only a reprieve, all day yesterday and last night the cold winds roared. Returning to indoor home life, with snow in the forecast, I finished Karen Armstrong’s A SHORT HISTORY OF MYTH and picked up again MEMOIRS OF AN UNREPENTANT FIELD GEOLOGIST, by Pettijohn, cozy by the fire.

Now today at Dog Ears Books, planning for next summer’s Friends of the Library summer series, ordering new books for customers, breezing through the New York Times Book Review, I enjoy my bright, warm little world while the wind bangs away at the awnings over the window and knocks my sidewalk sign over time and time again.