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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1018419
Rated: 13+ · Book · Nature · #1439094
Look around. Let Nature nurture your Soul. I record images I sense and share them here.
#1018419 added September 30, 2021 at 3:45pm
Restrictions: None
Plus ça change et Serenade to a dying September [13+]
Robert Waltz recently wrote a blog about change. My thoughts (added and edited):

It's the end of September and Autumn is my second favorite season. In Montana it's a mix of green and gold with splashes of red and rust. The bears have been visiting the apple trees to bulk up. I have to remind myself not to hibernate as days shorten. It's a time of change.

We change even as the landscape changes. For instance, those of us of a certain age become wrinkled and then the wrinkles get crinkled. Some deal with it by buying cosmetics, others by surgery, some by proudly embracing every crack and crevice. Blessed is the lover who says "I wish to caress each wrinkle". But what about parts that, like autumn leaves, fall off?

Personally, not all change in my life came about by my efforts. I did not beg to have head injuries from a car accident. And although I suspect it actually helped later with my ability to think in Spanish I shouldn't wish that on others (seems a bit drastic). It may be a factor in my present mental slippage. And yes, I'm at a point that I need to acknowledge that and hope that it's temporary.

In 1849, French writer Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr wrote "plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose." Yes, even change can look like it isn't changing as humans tend to remain human over millennia and individual and systemic changes can be very slow. Some folks remain recognizable decades later! Regardless, they have changed.

Part of my personal struggle is remaining flexible enough to adapt to internal and external changes. The River of Time keeps flowing.

Yesterday I wrote a serenade to the sunset I just missed.

Serenade to a dying September

Nothing to say ...
you blush the horizon
and move on.

I'll abandon you then
and descend to the bathtub
where waves lap gentle
and wet warmth soothes,
a decadence
my worn-out feet
have begged for.

I may turn out the light,
may light a candle,
inhale the fragrance
of last season's lavender,
in the quiet
remember your blush,
savor your hush,
and bathe in the moment
of a dying September.

© Kåre Enga 2021 [164.235] (29.september.2021)

~370 words
Posted in "Blogville
1159

© Copyright 2021 Kåre Enga — taking a break. (UN: enga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/action/view/entry_id/1018419