In keeping with what seems to be my once-monthly posting schedule, I'm back. It's September, and Labor Day weekend at that.
As it happened, I looked out at my beautiful south-facing view from the laptop desk (yes, it's on a desk, not my lap) early this morning and noticed that the gently rising sun was illuminating the treetops in the distance. The barely sunlit trees revealed just the very faintest little hint of changing color. (See the round-topped maple tree just left of center in the distance in the photo below? Oh, yes, it's definitely showing hints of a warm gold starting to emerge there.)
We had some
very hot days in early July, but most of the summer has been predictably warm, but pleasant overall. The evenings, as expected in late August, have started to get much cooler, so by early, pre-dawn hours, I'm sensing the arrival of fall in the air. Not cold, mind you, it's just cool and gradually getting cooler. Alas, the leaves are beginning to tell their pre-autumn tale.
This has been a strange summer for me. Those 13 or so of you who have been following might recall that I had plans to relocate to points south. Well, as with many plans we make these days, those have changed, too.
I had some serious ambivalence about a major, and permanent, relocation to a very hot and humid climate. There was, and still is much to recommend shaking up the status quo, but, practical realities dictated that moving 1,000 miles or so from my home state, home region, and hometown (nearby) wasn't the smart thing to do right now. The emotional realities are even more compelling. I love the landscape here, its seasonal changes, its beautiful greenery and gorgeous terrain. I live in a lovely rural area that many people adore as an escape from the harshness of the urban centers of New York City and Boston. I love the history and the culture of this place and the cultural resources of this region of the U.S. There is so much right in and around my area to see and enjoy. I also realized that, bottom line, I really am a dyed-in-the-wool upstate New Yorker and a true Northeasterner. Given a choice of where to live, I would rather stay here for so many solid reasons.
So, I can report now that any relocation plans have been moved firmly to the back burner, and most likely will be removed from that "stove-top" entirely. That said, I wouldn't resist the option of spending the harshest winter months in a warmer climate. I would absolutely relish it, but I don't want to spend summer months there. It's just waaaaay too hot down south in summer for this Northeastern cold-blood!
So, I'm staying put, and I'm just as glad about that as I was at the prospect of pulling up stakes and moving elsewhere to escape the winter's blast here in the Northeast. But, my most important resource - my support system of great friends - remains here. I have no family remaining anywhere in the state, so I must say, there were a few occasions when I relied heavily upon that solid support system to assist me with a few unexpected events this summer. I'd literally have been lost (or at least seriously, and potentially expensively, inconvenienced) without them. Sure, I can make new connections in a new place, but I can't replace the good friends who go back 20, 30, and some 40 years and longer. That's really not something to dismiss lightly. They're precious resources, those great, good friends, so I don't minimize their importance in my life.
Along those lines, one of the major events of the early summer (well, late spring, really) was a significant high school reunion in late May, and the importance of lifelong connections was reaffirmed over those two lovely days and evenings. One of our 27 surviving classmates (it is, and was, a small school and a small class), a vibrant, highly creative woman, had been diagnosed only a few months earlier with and advanced-stage cancer. Still, she made the heroic effort to join us, traveling from her waterside home in Connecticut to celebrate each other and the four decades since we had graduated. She had endured the chemo, but her doctors had told her there was nothing more to be done as treatment. Needless to say, the other 13 of us who attended our reunion were so glad she felt well enough to join us, and she seemed to be very glad to be among us, as well. Although it was unspoken at our reunion - it really didn't need to be said - we all knew that it very likely would be the last time we saw her. Indeed, sadly, it was. She passed away peacefully just a week ago at the hospital near her home, and with her passing the importance of keeping one's friends close became even more profound and pointed for me. It reaffirmed that staying near where so many of my friends are located has become far more important than my escaping the cold and snows of a few months of winter here in the Northeast. Life's too short to treat those friendships so lightly.
So, enjoy your Labor Day weekend, and if you can't spend it relaxing and reminiscing with family and good friends, think about giving them a call to say hello, so you won't regret what you didn't do when you ultimately have to say one final goodbye.