Beauty in the Breakdown...

Coming home this morning I paused… the sky was coming up the same colors as a brook trout, soft and full of clouds. I had not noticed the silence until I was about to enter the house. And there it was, glaringly obvious. A void in the morning. The sky was silent. The riot of morning song birds is still.

Summer is over.

I have a few regrets.

I did not go night swimming. Oh wait, I did. And it was quite spectacular. Off a boat in the big Shuswap Lake. But I was meaning that night swimming with a lover, the teasing of the slippery skin as it snakes by you…
I did not listen to Led Zeppelin while driving down a country road.
I did not make out in a grass field.
I did not get to wear a little strappy dress to a party.
I did not get to eat in at my favorite little restaurant; where, if I was so inclined, I could have eaten off my lover’s fingers.
I did not go camping.
I did not make eggs on an open fire.
I did not get to listen to someone playing a guitar under the night sky, the fire crackling a percussion.

I did, however, have a few adventures. And, let us not forget, I met J. Summer’s sweetest harvest. A girl can’t go wrong meeting one of those rare, good men. I count myself blessed.

Summer is so sweet and is often makes the renewed beauty of September come in second place. Yet, I enjoy the unfolding of the autumnal dress. The rich, tangible colors, the velvet feel as summer’s vibrancy is mellowed. When I run, I love how I can smell the honey scent of blackberries rotting on the vine and the wine scent of apples on the ground. If summer is rich, autumn is about the end of the feast. The waste of all that decadence. It is far too prosperous to carry on, like Madame Bovary, we know that the audacity must end.

A poem, from September 1996.


Blackberry Kisses

Nothing can alter the simplicity of
blackberry kisses.
Thickly entangled vines
crisscrossing vertical spaced
thorns snagging skin;
lazy seduction in light’s rippling
caught in September’s eclipse
(the silken softening is maddening)
Here the sun penetrates
the darkest of shadows
with the shattering brilliance of bliss.
The coolness of fall soothes
summer heat in forgetfulness;
everything is forgiven,
everything lay to waste
until rebirth.
New sight heightens sensation,
my lover’s skin becomes velvet,
thick and rich as grass
(green and sun-dance)
amongst the sweetness
of blackberry stained lips.


Although I know these lines are dated and even a little saccharine, there is that same sense of relief. The heat is gone. It’s time to curl up with a good glass of wine, soft sheets and a good book. Oh yes and the delicious morning touch of a lover. (Only one, don’t be greedy. Summer is over.)



G.