THANKFUL FRIDAY

I was terrified of any and all kinds of insects when I was little. Except maybe rolly-pollies. Those were safe and often became pets. Every thing else could easily send me into a screaming terror fit if it was found on my body or in my path. As I got a little older, my fits over insects grew less dramatic but ever present. The day I broke my arm in two, I did so because I jumped from the tree I was in to avoid climbing down around the cicada blocking my path. My dad told me that cicadas will bite. So I chose to exit the tree the dangerous way to avoid a cicada bite.

Cicadas do not bite.

Then, during the summer between my junior and senior year of high school, I spent three weeks at a biology camp. Yes. I know. I’ve always been this nerdy. At biology camp, we tagged baby birds and counted the diversity of trees. We studied sunfish and listened to lectures on dung beetles. We also built bug collections. It was best three weeks of camp I had ever experienced. My parents picked me up at the end of camp and I was unrecognizable, partly because of my epic lobster sunburn and all of the bug bites. But also had this whole new bravery around insects. Thanks to that (free, paid for with federal and state grants) camp I no longer scream in terror at the sight of a bug. Now when some insect lands on my arm or hand, I look at it and say “Oh! Look at you!” before plinking it off my body. Well, except spiders. I’m still suspicious of those, but my philosophy is to just ignore their presence. It’s working out well for both of us.

I am fascinated with how the insect world changes with the seasons. It begins with ants in the Spring time. The Spring rains wake the ants up and send them into our kitchen where we frantically set out the ant bait traps. They are a nuisance, but I can count on them to appear every Spring. June brings the lightening bugs. The lightening bugs are the overture of Summer, beginning with a twinkle of one or two. By the end of June and into July the lightening bug blinks crescendo into thousands in my back yard. Now that we are nearing the end of August, they are mostly gone and I might get a glance of one lonely blink dancing cross the back yard.

Right now, when it is still very much Summer, the cicadas are out and the backyard is roaring with them. They land on the sidewalks and buzz as Josephine and I walk by on our morning walks. They remind me of those hand shake gag buzzers. I see them wiggling out of their old skins and the shells of those skins stuck to the sides of lamp posts and trees. Occasionally, Josephine will snap a cicada up and stand there for a minute while it buzzes in her mouth before spitting it out and looking at with her head cocked to one side. It is also tiny spider season. I come home from our walks wrapped up in barely visible sticky threads. The later mornings and afternoons are filled with butterflies. Monarchs are passing through on their way to the south for a warmer wintering.

This week, I noticed my first leaf hopper of the year, hanging out on a third floor window. It won’t be long until the praying mantis appears. Each insect is a harbinger for the changing seasons and I know that when I start seeing praying mantis and leaf hoppers that Fall is just around the corner. I am by no means a pumpkin spice kind of gal. Nor do I long for sweater weather. I do however enjoy the shift in colors and light that happens in the Fall. And while I am still suspicious of spiders, I am quite in awe and enamored with the various orb spiders that appear right around the time the air starts to turn crisp. It’s easy to see the shifts in the landscapes with the changing seasons. The land changes from gray to pinks, purples and greens, back to a bit of brown and then into crimsons and yellows before all going back to gray. The insect world is not as obvious. They’re small things in a big world, easily dismissed and ignored.

We probably all feel that way sometimes. Dismissed and ignored. Maybe that’s why I’ve been paying attention, more so this year than ever. I am grateful for small things.

WAFFLES

The landscape between home and the Cabbage’s school is blanketed with trees. When I drove out there last week to take them to the dentist, the sky was overcast and there was a light rain hitting my windshield. The temperature was somewhere between cool and warm. I looked out at the usual sea of green and started to notice hints of yellows and golds. I was not pleased. Later, I was talking about this to coworkers when of them suggested that some of our yellows and golds could be due to drought. That was only mildly reassuring because I looked at the calendar and September is not far from being at its end. Tomorrow is officially the first day of Fall. A cold front is moving in this evening to kick things off.

As always, I am not ready.

September is hard. I want Summer to last forever. I want heat and sun and popsicles and endless scooter riding days. This week, when I have walked into the office in the mornings, I have noticed a shift in the light. It is the beginning of rainbow season, the time of year that the angle of the sun produces rainbows on our walls as it bounces off the edge of our glass cubicles. I remember now that I love rainbow season and I’m always taking pictures of my desk toys with rainbows, me with rainbows coming out of my ears. The changing leaves really are spectacular here. The reds and oranges in particular. They have a way of catching the light so that they appear as flames. Eleven years here and I’m still stunned and amazed, pointing out their spectacular beauty during every car ride, pulling over to take more pictures. And I like decorating for Halloween. Googly eyes on pumpkins are hilarious.

Transitions between seasons is a kind of death. There is a mourning period for what must be lost or sacrificed in order to move on to the next season. As Spring moves into Summer, I mourn the loss of the tulips and the new bursts of color while I welcome the heat, the lightening bugs and the buzzy sounds of that season. I find myself mourning the loss of those things now as we move into Fall and as Fall moves into Winter, I will mourn the loss of color. Winter is a full season of mourning for me. This is why I grasp so firmly to last days of Summer and resist the move into chillier weather.

I know what is coming.

I rode my scooter to work today, probably the last time this year without the need of a jacket. Michael told me that it was going to rain today, but I took a chance and rode the scooter anyway. Weather predictions say that the rain is not expected until this evening. I am willing to take this risk because I don’t know how many scooter days are even left for this year. So I’m soaking up as much joy and heat while I still can.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Light catcher

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 4 likes

I popped my headphones on over my ears yesterday morning and Josh Ritter's Snow is Gone was playing. I sang along with a big smile on my face. "Hello blackbird. Hello Starling. Winter's over. Be my darling." I remembered a night this last Spring. It was late Spring, almost Summer. Michael and I went to see Josh Ritter in concert. I hopped around and sang along with almost everything, but when he got to Hello Starling, something inside me exploded. I hopped a little higher, sang along a little louder. It's no secret that me and Old Man Winter aren't the best of pals. Every year the cold dreary days of winter tend to hurt a little more than the year before. That night, Winter was officially over.

I don't think I ever told you about going to that concert. I'm not a concert blogger, nor do I attend many concert these days. I prefer to be entirely present at a concert with my phone put away and me making as much eye contact with the band members as I possibly can. So the next morning, all I'm left with is maybe one or two pictures and notes in my head. But I am thankful for the memory of that night. It was such a joyful memory, one filled with hope. I can still see the lights and the stage, the carpet of the old Madrid theater floor and the small crowd in front of the stage. Mostly, I remember the warmth. "Winter's over. Be my darling." I am thankful for songs that trigger memories of joyful moments. 

When you step outside in the mornings, there's a definite crispness to the air. The day warms up but the heat is no longer a summer kind of heat. The thermostat has been set to Fall whether I like it or not (ollie ollie oxen free, ready or not). I am thankful for this transition. The move from Summer to Fall seems to be less harsh than the Fall to Winter to Spring move. Days are warm and evenings are cool. The evening dog walk is less sweaty. Plants are still green and the dahlias up the street all in full magnificent bloom. I am thankful for this particular moment in time. I am thankful for the reminder that even though there are times when things are difficult they are eventually followed with days that are easy. 

I am thankful for the small box of tomatoes that are sitting on our kitchen counter. They came from our garden and I think I'm going to roast them with a couple of jalapenos (also from the garden) and then make some tomato soup. I am thankful for the eggs collected this week, the walks taken with the dog and shitake mushrooms. I am thankful for silly texting with friends. I am always thankful for you. Here's to a crisp weekend and a super Thankful Friday!

LOVE THURSDAY

Not ripe

"Not ripe"

A storm swept through on Tuesday. It rained most of the day and at some point during that evening the sky turned that odd yellow color that tends to precede something bad. Nothing bad happened. No tornadoes or hail or high winds. Just regular old thunder and lightening. By Wednesday morning all of that weather had cleared off and I was able to ride my bike to work. Except Wednesday morning was challenging. The cat knocked over his food bowl and the food had to be swept up before Josephine could eat it. Josephine has eaten the cat's food enough to throw it all back up in neat little piles on the floor. So sweeping up this mornings spill was important. I was indecisive about what shirt to wear and ended up changing clothes three times. Josephine had to be yelled at for jumping up on top of the chicken run and running back and forth, terrorizing the chickens. 

Finally, I was out the door and on my way. And it was awful. That first hill up 77th to Troost was the worst thing ever. I got to the top of that hill and thought it was probably going to take me an hour to get to work. It was excruciating, but I made it to work. I made it to work with my cranky pants tied on really tight and I just sort of sat at my desk stewing in it. I was not the only one. I could hear the grumbles from others. Someone spilled their coffee. This person was late. That person didn't do what they were supposed to have done. We had all been hit with the Wednesday cranks. When I went out for my morning loop with my cup of coffee in hand, my first instinct was to grumble about the chill in the air as the door shut behind me. I did not have a sweater and the wind had a definite bite to it. Then I thought "wait. the wind has a definite bite it." 

That storm that swept through left behind cool temperatures and a breeze that suggested of apple picking, bonfires and football games. I am not quite ready for summer to end, but a break from the summer heat is nice and I know that this all that this is. A break from the heat. Temperatures are supposed to warm back up over the weekend. It is a hint of things to come though. I've noticed something about seasons around here. They don't show up all of a sudden and declare that Winter is over or Fall is here. I guess some would say that Mother Nature is a bit of a tease. You've just endured months of freezing temps, so here's a day of Spring like temperatures to remind you that there is warmth and sunshine coming eventually. Then the next day it will snow and you will have to shovel your driveway. When you are a warm weather girl, this can be really annoying, but now I see it as less teasing and more slow adjustments. Mother Nature likes to ease you into the changes ahead. It's like she's reminding you that all those things that you like you to do in the next season are coming. 

Today's weather was a reminder that apple picking and bonfires are coming. Soon we will be breaking out sweaters and carving pumpkins. We will be oohing and awing over the beautiful leaves with their bright reds and yellows. I know I'm not ready for any of that, but I look forward to doing all of those things. When I thought of all of this, I got a little less cranky. My bike ride home that evening was not easy (uphill all the way), but I didn't care. I was in no hurry, no chance of being late for anything. I savored the ride home just like I plan on savoring these last few days of summer.

Happy Love Thursday!