I believe we are on the cusp: It is harvest, the beginning of great wine. It is Friday, the beginning of the weekend.
And it is almost time for him to leave. This will be new. For both of us. In two days, he will move south, and he will be gone for at least a month. And if that month goes well, he will likely leave again in the spring, move even farther south. (Chile? Argentina? Australia? New Zealand? Wherever there are grapes, he will try to go.)
It is strange. In the past, I have always done the leaving. I was always the one to make the announcement: up the coast, across the country, to the city.
And now ...
I will fill my days with books and films and dinners with friends. I will spend time walking to the market, running on sand, climbing stairs, making things. I will write many letters.
It feels like fall. The light is changing.
2 comments
does fall always make you feel like school? it makes me feel like school. the dread. the desire to buy way more books than i can afford. knee socks. the works, man.
Definitely. I want to buy a Trapper Keeper.
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