8:35 a.m. – Enclave at Briarcliff Patio
Last day of summer
The weather this weekend has been Santa Barbara-style with crisp mornings and evenings and sunny warm afternoons that found me yesterday snuggled on a pool lounger in my white velvet-like terry-cloth get-up and shaded by an umbrella and hat. The weather was so perfect that I fell fast asleep and woke myself with snoring – the majority of the people gone from the pool. I think I cleared them out! A doze well-worthwhile as I approach four frenetic days of meetings – with Fellows, Advisory Board members, and the Mental Health Task Force claiming each square of the Center it seems.
I threw open all the windows in my place – every last one – until they couldn’t reach higher. A resistant shade that was blocking the sun was no match to my pulling after I rigged it to my wingback chair in the bedroom and allowed every last stream of light to enter what feels like the darkened recesses of a bedroom that has only felt air-conditioning through the long hot summer. (Painting - "Last Days of Summer" - Sebastia Boada)
My herbs and vegetables are providing a final encore as they hailed the last days of summer – for tomorrow, we graciously enter autumn and the red tomatoes and bursting green basil are no match for the kaleidoscope of colors that the much taller, older and stalwart trees will produce when it is their turn. It is almost as if I see there hands waving in the winds that we have had over the weekend – “It’s my turn!” they cry. And so, today, indeed we usher in their opportunity. Welcome autumn.
The weather this weekend has been Santa Barbara-style with crisp mornings and evenings and sunny warm afternoons that found me yesterday snuggled on a pool lounger in my white velvet-like terry-cloth get-up and shaded by an umbrella and hat. The weather was so perfect that I fell fast asleep and woke myself with snoring – the majority of the people gone from the pool. I think I cleared them out! A doze well-worthwhile as I approach four frenetic days of meetings – with Fellows, Advisory Board members, and the Mental Health Task Force claiming each square of the Center it seems.
I threw open all the windows in my place – every last one – until they couldn’t reach higher. A resistant shade that was blocking the sun was no match to my pulling after I rigged it to my wingback chair in the bedroom and allowed every last stream of light to enter what feels like the darkened recesses of a bedroom that has only felt air-conditioning through the long hot summer. (Painting - "Last Days of Summer" - Sebastia Boada)
My herbs and vegetables are providing a final encore as they hailed the last days of summer – for tomorrow, we graciously enter autumn and the red tomatoes and bursting green basil are no match for the kaleidoscope of colors that the much taller, older and stalwart trees will produce when it is their turn. It is almost as if I see there hands waving in the winds that we have had over the weekend – “It’s my turn!” they cry. And so, today, indeed we usher in their opportunity. Welcome autumn.
