jump to navigation

A Moment of October September 12, 2015

Posted by The Typist in New Orleans, The Narrative, The Typist, Toulouse Street.
trackback

The air is heavy with September in this barely peninsular city, surrounded by bath water swamps and a large, shallow lake, where the Yankee Farmer’s Almanac is purely a source of amusement. Humidity respects no levee and as the sun burns through the morning stratus the air warms slowly like a pot of soup. Soon it will bubble and the vanishing stratus will be replaced by clumps of cumulus that will rise to the boil of thunderstorms. I took a walk this morning to see what the crows were so excited about. One cawed not far to the north, a block I would think, and its companions came shooting toward the call with unusual urgency. I followed them up the street but whatever the excitement was, it was further away than I thought. The single caw had moved off toward the railroad tracks, and was lost in all the other bird call. In spite of the whine of Saturday morning lawn work the sound of a half-dozen different sorts of birds rose above it all. The birds know something is up. There is a cold front just over the horizon but nothing except the morning paper and the restless flutter of the birds indicates it is coming. There are no warning signs darkening the horizon. The air merely simmers. The leaf-rattling winds will come tonight, one hopes. The chill winds, blowing away all the clouds and leaving the air cool and dry, the first pleasant moment outside of a passing thunderstorm in months, one brief day of October arriving early like a scouting party. Tomorrow around 7 a.m. it will plunge to 66, just minutes after sunrise, as a temporarily gentler sun crests the trees. If you are not out looking east tomorrow, shame on you. It is only a single day, say the weathermen, and then it will be back to September again, summer’s close cousin. Leave a window open tonight. As the winds clock north, let the restless trees replace the sound of the air conditioner. Let the chill be your wake up call, and the warmth of the coffee welcome as you step outside.

Comments»

No comments yet — be the first.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: