From the Sky - Part V


From the Sky - Part V

By James M. O'Meara, © 2009

(Need to catch up on From the Sky? Just click here to read Part I, here to read Part II, here to read Part III or here to read Part IV!)

Primi Piatti

Cannelloni...

Have you noticed the nights are a little cooler? The days still have their blazing heat, and the sun-softened asphalt keeps my boys on the lawn if they're outside playing barefoot. But I sat on the back porch late last night and almost went in the house for a sweater. When that starts happening, autumn is not far off. I notice all these little things that hint at changing seasons. In the early spring, I look for the arrival of tiny buds on our hedges. In summer, it is an unexpected evening chill. Come fall, it's that first tree with leaves turning color, or a flight of waterfowl heading south.

And winter?

Well, there's the solstice, I suppose. True, the worst winter weather still lies ahead, but the days slowly start growing longer and that makes the cold and winter's pervasive grayness bearable. And at some point each winter I'll get in my car on a bright, frigid day and notice that it's warm inside. The sun's rays have finally strengthened enough to toast up the interior a bit. That's a harbinger of winter's demise and the coming of spring.

My Joe doesn't notice any of that. These are his seasons: snow shoveling, grass-cutting and football. Just three seasons on his mental calendar, and that's all he needs. As long as he knows when to buy salt for the sidewalk, when to tune up the Craftsman, and when to start planning tailgate parties, he's as oriented to time and space as he needs to be.

He may not be in tune with nature, my Joe, but there are things that get his attention immediately, things I'd ignore or walk right by. Crabgrass attacking our lawn. Cracks in the driveway. An unfamiliar rattle somewhere under the car. An odd vibration when he's pushing his mower. A faucet that drips just once-per-hour. If it's mechanical, structural, or involves plumbing he laser beams right in on it. His brain and mine are just wired a little differently, but I suppose it's a good thing because we cover all the bases that way.

Still, I am amazed at some of the things which slip by him unnoticed. We were married for two years before Joe discovered the scar just above my eyebrow, that little love-bite I got from a honey locust thorn. Think about that. We also dated for nearly three years before we closed the deal. In all that time, all those nights staring into each other's eyes, he never saw it.