Lunch Hour
Wednesday, September 17th, 2008
Moths that hatched in the final days of summer play above the overgrown grass and purple-headed weeds. They stand out, yellow, against the greenery, swooping into tangles and ducking out again, as though they aren’t finding what they want.
From thick spot to thick spot, they flutter on the wind, killing the afternoon, enjoying the warmth and the soft afternoon sunlight that’s overcome Kansas in mid-September. The temperatures have turned fall-like already and, though I ate lunch a couple of hours ago, I’ve decided to take in the scenery outside the corporate ofice complex from my car.
The main building here is surrounded fervent fields alive with buzzing and activity that most the workers notice. In a month, when the Earth has tilted some more, the volume will have lessened. Most of these afternoon creatures will freeze to death or go into slumber for the next season, when winter thaws to spring and the buds turn red and purple on tree branches.
Fall, so appropriately titled, usually comes on in late September, a pleasant substitute for the siffling heat of August. But this year, with transition being so gradual and the warmth fading already, the summer seems to be dieing and the fall is truly more like a drop from grace or distinction – something more esteemed, maybe, than what it is now.
On the drive into work, I try to remember where the most colorful shrubs are – where vines are wrapped around tree trunks – so that in the depressing gray melancholy and dried wheat rows of eternal February, I can imagine bright spots.
Those days are nearly five months away, but in my age (which I still like to consider relatively young), the memory of last winter and its delay of spring are still fresh on my mind.
At 4 o’clock, the warmest part of the day, summer returns to these Kansas fields. And, the insects and animals are temprarily fooled that’s June or July again. I’ll be inside at that time in a sterile office building that is sound-proofed against this nature and nearby interstate sounds. Winter or summer, it matters not … my afternoons during work week are essentially the same. So these intermittent breaks at lunch time are the best way to gather the wisdom and to be prepared for another long, cold winter.
