‘the bleak December’

winter

Ah, distinctly, I rememeber

 

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I’ve a friend who describes this time of year as liminal.

We’re both the superstitious sort, but there’s truth to the matter. There is something spooky about the winter, the last month of the year (in the Gregorian calendar, at least). The cold is coming and things are ending, and they won’t begin again for some time.

(Etymological side note: liminal comes from līmen, Latin for ‘threshold’; next month is January, which comes from Ianuarius—the month of Janus, a Roman god: the gatekeeper.)

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It’s cold here, where we are, and it snowed over the weekend. We are almost over our heads in final papers (my humanities cohorts and I) and exams (my aforementioned friend, a STEM major…oxymoronic, huh?) but we are OK.

The cold and the dark do affect me, but I’ve pulled through for the past twenty winters and I’ll do so again. 2017 has been a bad year for so many people, for so many reasons (but also a good year! for the silence-breakers!) but we have pulled through. And anyway,

perfer et obdura, dolor hic tibi proderit olim

(Ovid, Metamorphoses)

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love, Carey

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Taylor’s Island, Dorchester Co.

place

6 pm

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10 am

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2.00 p.m

3.00 p.m.

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early evening

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late morning

 

My rugby team went on a retreat this past weekend, to the Eastern Shore. For all the photographs of roads in the above series, there was only one, and in the 36 hours we were on there, I only saw twelve cars, ours included. There were many more cemeteries and abandoned houses than people, and also Holland Island (visible as a little nub in the water in the second-to-last photo), so we were a little reluctant (a little spooked) to go outside after dark each night.

But! It was really lovely.

 

sharp, clear, gold, bright, spooked air

autumn
LIBRARY of CONGRESS: ipsa scientia potestas est

LIBRARY of CONGRESS:
ipsa scientia potestas est

Hello!

It’s FALL!

Gourds and goblins

and apples and aestival harvests!

YES!

courtesy NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

courtesy NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY

This is the time of year I adore

because of the crows outside my wavy-paned windows,

the knits and flannel and boots coming back from the grave (my inner riot grrrl is happy)

and Halloween.

I am a smeedge obsessed with Halloween,

(and Samhain {the ancient celebration} in my Celtic ancestors’ interest)

and the smell of fall.

We talk about the smell,

and it is a rare once that I can truly describe it.

>>Sharp, clear, gold, bright, spooked air <<<

Answer mine.

AND I DO BELIEVE IN SPIRITS,

there is another world, well there must be,

but the ghosts I think of are more musicians and grand-families,

not so much the horror(ible) movie type.

The fall is beautiful and in my mind’s eye,

perfection.

MY NEIGHBORHOOD MOON

MY NEIGHBORHOOD MOON