Okay, so I know that I've written about this ad-nauseam, but the transition has always meant so much to me and as I'm transitioning in my life my feelings toward the seasonal change have changed as well. 

   When I was a small girl I used to like summer. I didn't mind the heat or the beads of sweat that came with the long days of sun. And though I really looked forward to buying school supplies and doing school shopping, I remember always dreading the end of summer, because it meant I would have to go back to school. Though I enjoyed learning it was the idea of being cooped up and having to pay attention to my teacher every second of the school day that bothered me most. 

   And then, some time in middle school, when the long hot summers started to bother me, I would pray for fall to visit early. As I got older my thirst for colored trees and cool air only deepened and I took to heart the mornings when the hillsides were covered with mist and the grass grew long and verdant in the winter and spring time. Fall meant the coming of the rainy season and with that came big white puffy clouds and sweater weather and clean air; the rain would literally wash all the smog away and Angelenos were left with the beauty that is Los Angeles: city of hills and valleys and dramatic spans of blue sky and buildings and at nighttime, velvety navy-black sky and crystal clear sparkling lights. 

   Now, though I enjoy the fall in Portland, and the autumn colors and four (three) season weather is why I moved here, I find myself coming full circle, pleading for summer to stay and to stretch on.  I know that with fall the leaves will change, something I love, and the wind will come, but so will the rain and especially the gray, overcast skies. At this point in my life I'm just not ready to part with the sun, especially since we just got it back two months ago.

Just a Note

  For the many, or few, who read my weblog from time to time, I'd like to let you know that I have moved from xanga to blogspot. I believe you can find me by typing in SilverTonguedLass or my name or Phoenix Also Rises. 

   I would write on both accounts except that I am not talented enough to come up with two different entries for two sites and as it stands I miss the fact that by the time I write on my blog I don't have anything to manually write in my leather bound journal, which has been neglected for months now and I feel as though I am letting down an old friend. Just wanted to let you know.

Eye to the Rearview Mirror

When people talk about life they often compare it to a road, using that as a metaphor. You'll hear people say "the road might get rocky" or "the road has lots of hills and valleys" or "life is a long difficult road." 

In the last few weeks I've been thinking about this simile. One of my favorite songs is called "The Wicked Twisted Road" by Reckless Kelly; beautifully written, there are at least three stanzas that compare or use a road as a symbol for life. 

Maybe it's because I like driving so much, but I have been thinking about how fitting this simile is to life. People often say that they "feel their wheels are spinning" or "they're running on empty" or "they've got to hit the pavement," all metaphors regarding movement by automobile. 

When you put the two together, a vehicle as a sign for movement and a road as life, you come up with something pretty profound, because both are true. 

Take for instance my life of late. A few months ago I felt as though I had made no personal progress upon reaching another year in my life. But now as I look back I remember a song lyric "the wheels of change had begun to turn" or something like that. Though I can't see the end result and in my usual impatient self I wanted to see all the change right now. But change and personal growth doesn't happen that way. It comes gradually and fast, shooting in bursts and spurts and passing slowly like a snail. Either way, all you can do is marvel at the fact that when you lay enough cards on the table, you pursue enough things and set enough things in motion, something inevitably starts to change, moving slowly, like cog wheels grinding against each other in a circular motion. 

I will list some of the ways  that the wheels have started to turn for me: 

1) I am more honest with myself. And I accept myself more in the face of being brutally honest.

2) I am a bit easier on myself; I'm a little more forgiving. 

3) I have a greater sense of who I am and acceptance and love of who I am as someone of immense worth.

4) I am more aware of myself and little by little I'm being more true to myself and less concerned with how others see me. In the end, I'm trying to accept and do what is right for me first and disregard anyone's outside judgement. 

5) I am ambitious and feel that while it may take some time, I am laying the groundwork, doing the hard grunt stuff, literally crafting my career from scratch. 

6) And finally, I've become more brave. 

 I'm caught somewhere between wanting growth and change to occur as a way to see the process unfold, and to live in the moment; and I'm also caught wan ting  all the change to happen NOW so I can stand on the hilltop and look at the growth spread before me. I want this particular journey to end so I can be at the point where I want to be. I guess, at 22, I just want to see the end result, but I also don't want to miss the moving wheels. 

Stealing Sunlight

   Over the last few days, with the first stretch of rain the city has had in two or three months, I am reminded how fleeting the summer is. It always seemed so long when I was small. 

   I can't believe school starts up for college students at UP next Monday and my dear friend, Anne, and her boyfriend Lee will start grad school this Monday as well. I can't believe sometimes how four years of college seemed to go so slow, but I also can't understand how it's all over either. 

  For the last week or so I try to turn a blind eye to the fact that the trees are getting tinged with yellow and there seems to be more leaves on the ground. The old Carolyn would wait all year for the trees to go fiery, but now I'm trying to hold onto the last vestiges of summer. 

  I realize time goes on and things change but the natural inclination to hold onto what is good and fun and healthy is hard to let go of. Here's the truth: one of my worst fears about creating a life in Portland is that each winter will bring with it the blues and Lord knows I've had enough to fill a few years, if not a lifetime. So, I'm just hoping this winter is different. The hardest part is the rain and grey sky. I like rain, but I don't like getting soaked and feeling damp all over. And I really don't like it when the winter stretches into April, and then May, and then June....

   But there are good things to fall too. Sheep and wool festivals and trees turning color and crisp air and fall fashion and halloween and the most fabulous day of the year: my birthday. So I say to Fall, bring it on, just don't steal my sunlight!