Eleven years
ago this week this blog was unintentionally launched onto the Internet. Frantically searching into the wee morning hours, I was unable to find Blogger directions for
removing that content I had been writing experimentally. I couldn’t phone friend or family at that
hour either for help. I understood so
little about digital technology then as I was still teaching myself how to use a
computer which I had acquired for the first time earlier that year. I
panicked at the thought my words were irretrievably “out there”, which I’ve
long since realized hardly mattered at all.
But, given my Internet naivety I reconciled myself there was nothing I
could do but continue with the blog to save face, so to speak.
AUTUMN MEMORIES
Writing for
my blog, coincided with a major life change following my husband’s sudden death
earlier that year. Natural reminiscences
prompted by his loss, my gradual aging-related recollections with the increasing passing of family
and friends, has often stimulated my thoughts to reflecting on my feelings and
life experiences. Often when I’ve sat down
to write a blog post I’ve gotten side-tracked with some of those tangential
tales.
So, I began writing
those stories as they emerged, but in no particular sequence. I’ve recounted a few, or portions of them,
here, but the rest I consider personal, to be more appropriately appreciated for
sharing with my adult children and, likely their children one day. One fond
memory, in abbreviated form here, often comes to mind when I think of fall -- and
especially Indian Summer.
INDIAN
SUMMER
October, or autumn,
has also happened to be my favorite time of year. Living many years in a Great Lakes State we
were treated to fall’s magnificent leaves colors of golden yellow, shades of
flaming reds to rust and rich browns embracing the trees before gently falling
to the ground in preparation for winter’s snows. I looked forward to those years when late in
the season we’d experience a period of cold temperatures or frost, then
unexpectedly a brief episode of unseasonably warm, dry and calm weather would
suddenly intrude ….. Indian Summer arrived…..as has this memory in subsequent
years.
I had ended
a relationship the previous year and a lengthy period followed before I began
to notice in the Spring the presence of a nearby resident to whom I had
previously never paid any attention, when he and his parents had moved there
from out of state many months earlier. I now became aware of this
handsome young man who had a light olive complexion, short dark hair slightly
receding at the temples, that said to me he was older, possibly close in age to
my 23 years.
He had a
physical build one would expect to see today on someone who regularly did body
building, though his 5' 11" trim muscular stature was just natural. Few
men engaged in exercise workouts then that I knew, as many do today, nor had he,
I later learned. I didn’t
really date that much and didn’t really think of him as the type I expected to
date.
I was quite
pleased though when almost simultaneously with my awareness of him, he phoned
me for the first time. That spring and summer we enjoyed each others
company in as many fun activities as were available in the small town
environment where I was living then. I remember the increased rush of feelings I
felt on those occasions when he began periodically coming to transact business
where I worked instead of where he previously had gone, though we had no direct
contact in the business place.
We sometimes
played penny ante poker with my parents. He was clearly gambling card
savvy, generally winning, and my strong suit of bluffing seemed not to work
with him. There were afternoons
and evenings swimming at a large spring fed lake nestled in the hills outside
of town. Sometimes, we just walked together,
talking or in silence, holding hands, sauntering past stores on the few short
blocks of the downtown main street, only a short distance from where we each
lived. Sometimes we visited the one popular darkened interior atmospheric
watering hole, or further up the street there was the attraction of the local
Isaly's ice cream store – which, coincidentally, has returned to the marketplace
this year.
Television
(black and white only, as color came years later) was becoming accessible with
cable installations enabling more people to receive broadcast signals from the
distant stations. Their reception had
previously been unavailable due to topography interference. I don’t recall that we watched any TV,
however. Little
did I know, though it had always been in the back of my mind, that before the
next year ended I would be employed at one of those commercial television
stations -- in spite of the fact Public Broadcasting was what initially interested
me most.
High Fidelity
was being enhanced to stereophonic sound on our long playing (LP) vinyl records
for the music we enjoyed. Occasionally
we went to the local movie theater. Then
there was the annual County Fair with those colorful “Dancing Waters”, rides
including a Ferris Wheel, Tilt-O-Wheel, the fun wandering among the various
animal barns, treating ourselves to the fast food only available at traveling
fairs and carnivals.
We
experienced the always surreal to me Indian Summer that year after the summer
turned into fall. I remember those
occasions when we lost track of time as conversation and our friendship took a
more serious turn. I think this may have alarmed both of us, since we
each had quite different plans for our lives. Just as suddenly as we had
started dating, we stopped. I had mixed feelings, but neither of us reached out to the other.
Indian
Summer inexplicably signaled the finality of more than just the season after a
very special spring and summer. There have been times over the years when I've
wondered what became of my bronzed young friend. I do know that though we
would not have been a good long term match, fall seasons that have an Indian
Summer are very special to me.
Here’s Sarah
Vaughn’s rendition of a favorite “Indian Summer” jazz melody: