The Fall cometh, soon

canadian blog awards

Winner of GLBT category

The Fall is coming,

The Fall is coming

Nope, I am not chicken little,

đŸ˜›

but,

I do so look forward,

to the Fall,

every year,

perhaps this one,

in particular.

Fall, for me,

is,

my mind’s,

and,

body’s,

trigger to,

get back to work.

Left over from school days,

I guess,

the cooler, crisper,

temperature,

allows thoughts,

to percolate,

more,

freely,

walks in the cool windy air,

with my thoughts,

my camera,

I love the Fall.

It’s still sweatily hot,

we are in fact,

having,

here,

in the beautiful ugly,

some of our hottest days,

right now,

but,

the night comes,

sooner,

and,

brings with it,

cooler air,

and,

easier sleep,

in principle,

at least.

I am a cool weather butch,

combination,

of climate and ancestry,

I suspect.

I am at my best when,

I can slip on a sweater,

jacket,

boots,

and go out,

wandering.

Thinking,

in active mode,

walking and walking.

I have,

appreciated the,

Summer,

this year,

very much,

spent lots of time,

outdoors,

not active,

so much,

as soaking in,

the sun,

the air,

figuring things,

out.

Letting,

my mind,

my heart,

write the first draft.

Healing,

letting the anger,

evaporate.

I would not want any,

of you to think,

that the anger I felt,

at the loss of my,

dear, dear anarchist,

was in any way,

directed at him.

at his memory,

because,

that is not,

the case.

The anger I felt,

was at the fickleness,

of life,

at the fact,

that someone,

so giving and with real,

generosity of spirit,

and,

life affirming presence,

should be gone,

struck down,

while,

others of much more,

shall I say,

dubious contribution,

go on,

taking up,

space,

breathing air,

yep,

I was angry,

and,

sad,

from a very selfish,

perspective.

Who would be there,

for me,

like Francoys,

had been?

The answer to that question,

I have known,

all along-

no one.

Francoys,

was my sounding board,

on everything,

I trusted,

his honesty,

and kindness,

he didn’t bullshit you,

but,

he wasn’t negative and harsh,

or envious or cynical.

He didn’t live a life,

of fantasy and what could be,

but,

he had dreams and hope.

Never Polyanna,

never black cloud.

As I embark,

on my,

fiftieth Fall,

I feel that,

in spite of the gaping hole,

I am strong,

I am blessed,

with love,

and friendship,

and maybe,

the hole,

allows me to get to,

the vein of creative truth,

easier,

maybe.

Let the mining and excavation begin,

enough,

planning and wallowing,

now,

we build.

Later girls,

BB

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Published by

Bookish Butch

I am a bookish butch in my very early fifties. I live in Montréal and always have. I used to run a small used bookstore. Reading keeps me sane. My latest jiggie is photography, book project in the works, living the dream

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