It's time for memories and Frost

When I was an undergrad, one of my favorite professors would surprise us one day, later in the fall semester, by cancelling what was on the syllabus for the day and he'd read us Truman Capote's "A Christmas Memory." I still read it every fall, often to my classes (if they've been good!)--and I get a little blinky every single time. "Buddy...it's fruitcake weather!" means so much more to me than the text suggests. I miss the prof, and sometimes, I miss the chaos of learning and deadlines as a college student. Both are long gone, but never forgotten.

That said, there's certain ineffable triggers for me in other seasons and situations, as well. Today, as I'm sitting here watching the traffic blur by in the early morning darkness, I'm plotting how to get my husband to take the air conditioners out of the windows. It's chilly in the house. I put a small throw blanket on the bed last night. It's autumnal, and even the sunshine--when we have sunshine--feels temporary. The crickets have been telling me this for quite some time now, and I'm happy to put on a light sweater or at least long sleeves for work wear. 

So here's one of my favorite "fall" poems. It seems apt today. I hope you enjoy it.

C

Now Close the Windows

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Robert Frost

1874 –

1963

Now close the windows and hush all the fields;
     If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
     Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
     It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
     But see all wind-stirred. 

This poem is in the public domain.