Here Comes Fall

As the summer began with a flourish of outside activity and appreciation for the climate where I live, so it exits and in its place comes fall.

Recently I attended a pool party at a faculty member's house, and as though aware that I would likely not go in a pool for many more months, I remained submerged in the pool and later the hot tub for nearly five hours, floundering in the weightlessness of the water. The truer reason I remained in the pool was because three big friendly dogs occupied the inside of the house and even the outside patio, and I was only safe from them in the water. As typically occurs, the dogs pounced on me as soon as I entered the house, somehow sensing that I was allergic to them, and after about fifteen minutes after my arrival and two attempted tongue baths therein, I made for the protection of the water, hoping the dogs could not swim.

I suppose it is fair to say that I also stayed in for so long out of fear of making an exit. As the only adult in the pool with all other adults gathered around it in their dry, flesh-concealing clothing, I would have felt a spectacle getting out of the pool in a drenched and clingy, probably shifted bathing suit. I mapped out possible scenarios in my head that might allow me to get to the safe covering of my towel, but too many people were between it and me, so I sank back down into the water and floated around on a giant foam noodle.

At the night's end I emerged from the pool with shriveled up skin and scraped feet from dog-pedaling intermittently to stay afloat.

***

Although I live in a region that is notoriously "seasonless," I find that the longer I live here in Tampa the more I am able to appreciate the subtle nuances of the changing weather patterns. This past week, however, the cool air and gusty winds were anything but subtle as they whipped around, announcing the approaching autumn splendor.

Uncertainty

How quickly life changes. I am now living on my own again and continuing my ongoing quest for the peace and joy that I know this world has to offer. I fear sometimes I am all too content to swim around in a constant sea of uncertainty and unknowing, but I also believe this is an intrinsic part of who I am, and lately I've come to embrace it.

I was recently at a gathering with new acquaintances where one of them asked me if there was anything I decisively opposed. Apparently I had been making arguments against others' declarations of dislike--for art, for people, for poetry. I was hard-pressed to come up with an answer right then, and I sat thinking on the subject for a while, allowing the conversation to go on around me. I eventually came up with a few pet peeves, as was requested, and these included discourteous people in general, people who don't hold doors for the next passer-through, and people who talk loudly on cell phones in public places. While I'm certain I could come up with a much longer list of dislikes, as I often find myself an easily irritated person, my reluctance to do so stems from a deep-rooted effort to keep an open mind and to not judge. These sound like simple, basic principles that most of us embrace, but to truly do so is not an easy accomplishment. So while I may seem unopinionated or indecisive much of the time, I remain firm in my desire evaluate and weigh the merits of a given situation, and in effect, not commit to a position right away. Perhaps I'm too much of a literature student, where we are expected to weigh all sides of a particular text--something for which I'm exceedingly grateful. I can flounder all I want. Until I have to write a paper, that is.