"Autumn"?

Today it is September 1st and I am in denial. The last few days there has been a noticeable nip to the air, a flush to the trees, and a shift in the wardrobe-- but it is not autumn. It can't be.

This resistance is new to me, as fall is my favourite season (or winter, or...) and when I was younger I inevitably tired of the summer sometime late July, and looked forward to buying school supplies almost as much as my mother.

And no, I am not even glum about 8ish months in North York (not the most inspiring location), or four and a half courses and ten text books. I am just struggling with time, or rather how to reconcile past time --travel time-- which mopes and drags itself by and is over too soon, with Canadian/at home time, with its predictable monthly calander and the odd civic holiday (Labour Day-- what is labour day?) .

My whole time in Peru I was shivering (and shroaded in Alpaca), while Toronto sweltered in yet another heat wave. The day I arrived home the weather was perfect-- 25 degrees and sunny. The temperature never went back up, or down below perfectly comfortable. But (however it may seem) I have only been home three weeks, and suddenly the radio is taking about "fall hits", and the dollar stores are selling Halloween gear (which is just strange, if you ask me).

I am not ready to give up this feeling of stillness, which mopes and drags, and is over too soon. And yet maybe I am, if I could just get used to the idea.

N.