Seasonal Check-In
This morning, fifty-eight degrees in the loft.
That’s still luxurious, but the point is that the temperature dropped by twelve degrees indoors over the course of eight hours. Thirty-two degrees at first light, according to the porch thermometer.
The cabin heats by passive solar during the day, sometimes roasting all afternoon, and is pretty well insulated, the office being the only exception. The office is about ninety-six square feet and on one wall there is a six by seven foot window – almost floor to ceiling. That window provides an unending view of the Black Mountains, but it is also single pane, making the office the coldest room in the house. Since office work involves sitting and only moving my fingers (and endless firing neurons, but that hardly burns calories), I am often freezing cold. I drink tea and wear kooky wool hats to entertain myself (I can see my ridiculous reflection in the single-pane window and sometimes make faces or imitate snobby British people when no one is looking…which is always, because no one else is ever here). Sometimes I pause from the writing and reading and do jumping jacks but already, I am getting ahead of myself…
Drastic temperatures call for drastic measures and we are hardly there yet. This is the bread and butter time of year, the ease of median temperatures with the benefits late fall garden harvests. We are still blessed by wildflowers and still able to eat outdoors in full sunlight. While visions of snowfall dance in my head, I can only laugh at myself – we’ll never have the harsh winter here that I pretend I can gear up for.
I have grown impatient with my recent creative writing. I am not convinced that I’m telling my childhood stories in the write voice. I’m not convinced that I’m actively narrating them in the best way possible. It’s like soaking up the florescent light of fall but forgetting to see its beauty, because my eyes are dead-set on winter. I need to be where I am – in words, thought, body, and spirit.
Time to settle. Time to dig. Time to nestle down into the dirt and lighten up a little.
