A sense of saturation
It’s a feeling like that of fall, or of an old house in which you’ve lived slightly too long.
Not that the harvest is a disappointment, or that the house isn’t dear. There’s just a tiredness about it all, a sense of saturation — you’ve been here long enough. Let’s get the apples inside and lock out the world, let’s close the windows and leave.
Holiday approaching. I’ll be off to my family in France, seeing my parents again after several months, and then my husband and I will be travelling on to Italy.
In the mean time my old life — writing articles, going to meetings, supervising homework, doing laundry — is on hold for a while. The shutters are closed on the regular everyday business. Things are allowed to fall apart, just a little.
I hope there will be beauty and warmth down the relaxed, slowly winding holiday road. I hope I will be able to write.
I mean to bring back treasures, and a taste of sunlight, from my travels. And when I step back indoors, I’ll be glad to open the shutters once more.