It’s entirely possible that the seasons have DNA. How else to explain the gene splicing that goes on June through August? That’s when you can merge with whatever species – flora or fauna – that is centerstage at any given moment. I’m talking about YOU really mixing it up with your favorite bird, furry critter or flower. The sheer animal animation and primal ethos will pull you across the species barrier. Works with any creature of fur, fin or feather, but the demiurge is strongest if you have a whole herd, flock or swarm of like-minded individuals, or even a field of flowers perfuming the air with mass seduction. The call of the wild. Happens to anyone who hangs out in nature a couple hours each day.
So, if your atoms
didn’t intermingle with last summer, you weren’t there. No point in looking
over your shoulder, it’s gone now. But I can give you a postscript, a little summery
summary to savor the flavor:
My kayak is roomy, so
settle into the cockpit in front of me (I promise not to clunk your head as I
rotate the paddle). Let’s catch the American redstarts under this bridge where
their clay burl nests cover every square inch of the I-beams. See them come
pouring out in feathered streams swarming for insects against the light from
the other side. I know that their cries are piercing to your eardrums, but let
their excitement shake your soul with biological imperatives. Fly mute with me
through their midst and into the dragonflies beyond that are coupling and tipping
their wings in sunlight. The white egrets are next and then the gray herons
lifting off dead branches with Jurassic ponderousness. And let’s not overlook the
spiders running on the water right next to us or miss the eaglets keening from
a distant aerie reared up against a Cerulean blue sky.
Nice, huh – gliding
through patches of algae like an emerald archipelago in the still black water? Feel
the zephyrs and smell the fragrances. We’re living in paradise. Well, OK, it’s
so humid you could brush your teeth just by smiling; but we’re lucky to live on
a lake that isn’t overrun with serial farting machines (a.k.a. gas engines that
destroy the serenity and disrupt all animal life while leaving noxious fumes)!
V-room, v-room! Uh-oh, all my motorhead friends are gonna get me now…
Exit laughing. Time to take in the winds of change and note the riot of hues building in the wings. A new tang is in the air. Autumn is just around the corner!
There persists some
confusion about what I write to fans and friends each month, so here’s the
skinny. I do a monthly column at StorytellersUnplugged and include a link to
the last archived one in this Sullygram newsletter. Often the columns are
Q&A asking about everything from writing to relationships, like these two
questions from my newest in the archive:
A:
The Eagles are simply the best, and if you know Glenn’s eclectic nature and
drive for perfection, you understand why. My musical tastes run wall-to-wall. I
love new music and listen to it daily. Don’t remember the post you cite, but I
am a Bjorn again ABBA fan for their energy, joy and romantic poignancy. I think
Benny is a musical genius in a wonderfully simple and unschooled way, and
Agnetha channels unadulterated hormones and urgent longing. You can kid about
ABBA’s campiness, but I think that started because they were pure romance when
Sweden was pure message music (we had just left the 60s). A prophet (make that
“profit”) is without honor in his own country. So their success was sneered at
by many in Sweden, reinforced by deliberately campy production values, e.g.
glitzy outfits/sets dreamed up by their producer. After that stigma took hold,
it was upstream globally – except in Australia. But you have to come back to
the fact that they have somewhere north of 400 million records sales, and like
Glenn and the Eagles, they are in demand across generations even decades after
breaking up, having turned down $1 billion in 2000 for a reunion tour. … Many,
many other songs, singers and groups I could write about. Ask me about some
specific music and I’ll respond. (But the Eagles OWN the anthems of America. :-) )
Q:
[ ?
] You deserve a lot of credit for your honesty for writing about your
personal relationship so beautifully. I’ve followed that for several years now
and I’ve taken a lot of hope and inspiration from it. I think I get it that you
found true love with someone in an impossible circumstance so I’m not asking to
know what that was or is, but for once and for all will you clarify your
relationship status?
A: I am free. Which is to say, no one has any claims on me. But that
doesn’t mean I don’t savor a dream that could have been. Yeah, I know, the
world regards such faithfulness with a sneer. That kind of fool is never repaid
in kind or with kindness. Sometimes, when the magic of your dreams comes true,
you have to respond, and I was distracted. I may always be distracted. Romance
is the core of my being, and for such a person a soulmate is forever. But I’m
sorry, world, for what I haven’t given back to you. Hopefully, I’ll do better
in the future.
Here’s the link to the rest of the column: http://www.storytellersunplugged.com/2015/08/15/thomas-sullivan-raining-sunshine-the-anthems-of-america/#respond
September’s photos below are as follows: #1-3 Crow Hassan clouds; #4 Mickey at Eastman; #5-11 are Mickey’s photography including #5 me on dock; #6-7 late-summer flora; #8 Bambi up close and personal; #9-11 swans at Eastman (and if you look close at #9 you may be able to tell that they are swirling in a circle as they sometimes do, and a couple of them have actually flipped over on their backs); #12 a horse named Devon and me (horse is on the left).
Down curtain on summer! Up curtain on autumn! And “trick-or-treat” on Halloween!
