Tuesday, November 02, 2010

Tomorrow is my birthday

When I imagine the march of time, I think of one of those typical one-page calendars that has 3 months across and 4 down. When it's February, I'm there in the middle of the top line, May I'm floating in the middle, September I'm 3 down and 3 across - it's how I place myself in the flow of time. Which is why October is so trying, the dark dingy bottom left-hand corner, tucked away, dusty and dim, the beginning of the last row, cramped and awkward, the weight of all those other months on top and still a whole row to traverse before the end. It's an exhausted  month, a dispiriting month. After spring days promising sunlight and warmth, it's  wet and cold and windy. If a year were a lifetime, October is mid-retirement when, no matter how healthy and happy you are, you can start expecting to die any second.

Which is probably why I never plan anything for my birthday.

2 comments:

  1. Sweet October, the enchanted month, the graceful month. October holds up the rest of the year on her fingertips, and looks shyly sideways to November and December. She offers you a garden of calm and refreshments - here, you may pause - smile - gather the strength that you need as you set forth into the cruel heat of the summer to come (or, in the northern hemisphere, the terrible cold), glancing back, always glancing back and saying, 'thank you, October, thank you for that.'

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