Wednesday, August 21, 2013

Something wicked this way soon...

 The county fair, in all its barnyard, side show, harvested glory, with a skeleton made of milk cartons, part of a 4-H Club display. A garden, finally, showing fruit. A leaf. This

week past has brought sign after sign-- and not just the slowly seeping seasonal merchandise beginning to show face in stores-- that the season is coming. Finally, so soon. 

 Already I'm behind and all the projects, reading, watching and planning that comes with my favorite season, and holiday is closing in. Every year, but this year all the more so, the feeling that I am behind. 

 There's something about the event that is my local county fair that stands as a gateway to the other world of the fall. Standing still in the summer, seeing the first fruits of the harvest, the beginning that all this bursting, bright summer light will peak; and, slowly, beautifully, end. And in the fair, there is-- still, though I do not believe to the extent it once was-- the curiosity of what could be, and what is to come. As the harvest celebrates the precipe and the fall, we celebrate the inevitable, the fall, what will also come and be harvested. In that vein, I find it appropriate the fair harbors children's haunted houses, the side show attractions harkening to the grave. Two dollars to see the two-headed mummy, the woman half a fish, a creature billed as the Chupacabra; under the tent, on the midway, while the summer starts to end. 
 I found the red-turned leaf on the ground in Forest Lawn, near the graves of my great-grandparents, having just watered the flowers in their urn. The first leaf of the fall. Yes, autumn will be here, again, before I am ready for it. And I am okay with that. Who could ever be ready for the harvest? 


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