Tuesday, September 1, 2020


Hummingbird / Oil on black canvas / 5x7 / $68 including shipping

this bird has flown!

SEPTEMBER ALREADY. The days slip past, the months, the years, a blur, a whirl, a twirl of minutes and moments, feelings and ideas, tasks done and undone. The promise and the promises of a life. 

And September, one of Peter's favorite months. Mine, too. Both my parents were born in September. School started in September. New clothes, new shoes, new friends, new books. New thoughts. 

When I was young, September days were cool enough that the sun's warmth cut through, delicious on my cheeks and my head. We lived near the Sound, and in September, the smell of salt would call me to the deserted, tourist-free beaches, where one secret was that the water was warmer than in any summer month. 

Later, September meant the start of the good fishing for Peter. He would stand at the end of the jetty in Misquamicut with his friends, and they would cast huge rods far in front of false albacore - they swim so fast that casting at them meant you'd be far behind them by the time the fly hit the water. More often than not, he would come home skunked - but always happy.

Here in Virginia, September was when the weather became reasonable and the sunsets phenomenal. We would sit outside in the evenings and watch the sky and the dogs, and enjoy the cool air and the sense of things beginning. 

Another September is here, and I will celebrate for us both. 
A Last Thought

"As long as the hummingbird had not abandoned the land, somewhere there were still flowers, and they could all go on."

- Leslie Marmon Silko

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