The trees are giving up their leaves late this year; not that that means it’s true, it’s just my impression. A calm morning breeze is busy cleaning the tree in front of me, and although it’s only 13 days until the official start of winter, I’ve taken up my place on our balcony enjoying the pleasant 73-degree temperature (23c) that promises to not go above 77 (25c). It’s just beautiful out here today, with me reflecting on the calm of both the weather and the hoped-for relief from stress that accompanies the end of vacation.
The falling leaves often create two sounds: the first is the collision with other leaves on their way to Earth, and the second is their landing on it. Those sounds are preceded by the swoosh of wind in the leaves that are staying attached to the tree for an indeterminate length of time, holding fast against the air that is playing a kind of Jenga with nature. The other background sounds are the ever-present road noises from tires that roar while speeding by and the occasional songs from nearby birds. To some extent, I’m able to blur the traffic sounds into my memories of the ocean crashing onto the shore. For that moment, I have another bit of time in Oregon, next to the sea.
Punctuating the din is the passing motorcycle or the aggressive exhaust of a car that breaks the spell of meditation I am indulging in when I should be writing. Then, a dove with its distinctive whistling-while-flying sound flutters by to land for a second before taking off again, carrying its whistle along as it goes. A lone grackle bleats out its screech and then falls silent as nothing responds to its call. Similarly, my mind seems to fall silent following my call to head out here and write.
The carniceria at our corner has stoked the fires of its charcoal grill and its distinctive smell wafts over on the wind; just thinking of what might be cooking has me thinking of food and not words. I know that this is somewhat futile, but on such a beautiful day, after realizing that I could be sitting out here working, I’m determined to give it a go until I figure out how my time could be better used.
Maybe the fact of it all is that I want this time to charge my batteries by feeling the breeze on my face and arms as I listen to the little clicky sounds of the leaves dropping in on me. For the entire week after our return from vacation, I was catching up with the tasks that are required to keep life flowing at home. Today can be considered my day off. Then, just as I think I’m out here for daydreaming, Caroline lets me know it’s time for lunch and that I need to offer the kitchen my attention.