the long and lingering summer

I paced the house last night, uncomfortable but unsure why. I want to swim in a night-dark sea, I thought, but that wasn't true, because I don't like the ocean; I haven't gone swimming for decades, and never feel tempted to do so. I want to stand in the rain, I thought, but that didn't feel right either. In the end, I concluded that I've simply had enough of summer.

1. henry ryland, 2. leaping gazelle.

Of course, it's actually autumn here now. When I went out early this morning, the air was crisp, salty, fresh. But the ageing day has put back on her summer clothes. I must say, it would be nice to be cold again. To feel the world rub up against me, rather than smudge into me with this endless humidity.

At this time of the year, I become quite pathetic, and spend most of my time reaching for comfort. And so I learn all over again about the sort of person I am when my strength is gone and I have only my wishes and silences to shape me. Soon winter will be here and I'll put on my boots, cardigans, and become taller somehow, more determined, more able to make a sound in the world. But now I am a summered woman who just wants tea, roses, sweet romantic books, and cold peace.

 1. henry ryland, 2. jacky parker.

I think who we are in our tiredest or most over-seasoned moments is not necessarily a bad thing. I don't understand why we are told to ignore our sighs, struggles, and weaknesses. They are rich with tender, undeniable information about how we feel when our comforts and courage have broken away. If we accept them compassionately, we can then give ourselves the support we need - either to enjoy more often the things we don't allow ourselves until we're worn down, or to build ourselves back into the strength of our favourite season.

Some reading I have enjoyed lately:

Anne is my favourite of the Bronte sisters, I think her books are certainly superior to Jane Eyre. These articles agree with me.

When the woods should just be the woods.

Why enchantment matters.

Matrilineal magic.

The problem with nature writing.


  1. A lovely post. I still remember my Californian summers, how they drove me crazy, like there was no escape from the heat. Now I long for spring where I am, as you know, longing for life and warmth.

    But I remember how the heat would steal my energy, and I just wanted to be cool and comfortable again. Our apartment had no real AC either. We moved around a lot, so some places were better, those closer to the sea.

  2. We just celebrated the first day of spring here in New York. We had a rather mild and almost snowless winter so I wasn't feeling that push for spring for the most part. Spring is always bittersweet for me because I know that summer is just around the corner. Hazy, hot and humid are the days of summer here and I truly want to crawl out of my skin sometimes. Give me autumn and winter any day!! Just found your blog and it's lovely. xx

    ~ Wendy

  3. so good that you are on the threshold of a new season, one that might feel so good to you. I remember traveling the endless summer route. NZ was part of that. It was not my intention, because i do not enjoy heat. But after 1.5 years of hot summer I was so prepared for the seasons of Montana. I would rather be cold than hot. Endless summer really makes me long for layers, boots and scarves.