I went for a lot of walks today.
In the Upper Peninsula of Michigan, we've been experiencing an extended stretch of very warm weather--close to 90 degrees every day. It hasn't felt like September, more like the dog days of August. Today, the temps topped out in the mid-80s, and I took my puppy for a few extended saunters and then strolled up to church to play the pipe organ for Mass.
But tonight, a cold front pushes through, followed by thunderstorms, and then fall weather takes over. I think a meteorologist would refer to the upcoming days as being more seasonal. I guess that's appropriate since tomorrow is the autumnal equinox--12 hours of day, 12 hours of night--then the slow slide to winter.
Billy Collins row, row, rows a boat . . .
Brightly Colored Boats Upturned on the
Banks of the Charles
by: Billy Collins
What is there to say about them
that has not been said in the title?
I saw them near dawn from a glassy room
on the other side of that river,
which flowed from some hidden spring
to the sea; but that is getting away from
the brightly colored boats upturned
on the banks of the Charles,
the sleek racing sculls of a college crew team.
They were beautiful in the clear early light—
red, yellow, blue and green—
is all I wanted to say about them,
although for the rest of the day
I pictured a lighter version of myself
calling time through a little megaphone,
first to the months of the year,
then to the twelve apostles, all grimacing
as they leaned and pulled on the long wooden oars.
which flowed from some hidden spring
to the sea; but that is getting away from
the brightly colored boats upturned
on the banks of the Charles,
the sleek racing sculls of a college crew team.
They were beautiful in the clear early light—
red, yellow, blue and green—
is all I wanted to say about them,
although for the rest of the day
I pictured a lighter version of myself
calling time through a little megaphone,
first to the months of the year,
then to the twelve apostles, all grimacing
as they leaned and pulled on the long wooden oars.
In Collins' poem, he imagines a lighter version of himself (translation: a younger version) "calling time" in one of the sculls he observes by the Charles River. He's haunted by time and faith in the second stanza, his ghostly self riding in a boat rowed by Jesus' 12 disciples.
My recent TV obsession is a series titled The Haunting of . . . , featuring psychic Kim Russo. Every episode has a celebrity who has had a paranormal experience. The celebrity returns with Kim to the site of the haunting to confront fears and find closure.
Now, I will be the first to admit that many of the episodes seem slightly staged. My son thinks the whole show is a load of bullshit. I am not so compelled to watch because of the supernatural elements. It's the human drama that has me hooked. Often, the featured celebrity reveals very personal details during the course of filming--deeply held secrets.
Of course, all of the streaming services are now pushing Halloween content since it is the middle of September. I find myself sucked into watching movies and TV series that highlight ghosts and monsters. I've always had an affinity for horror in literature and film. I read William Peter Blatty's The Exorcist when I was in fourth grade, and I saw the original Halloween in a movie theater when I was about ten or so. (I still have a thing for actress P. J. Soles.)
I'm not really looking forward to the change in weather or season, despite my love of P. J. Soles. Sure, I will watch all the normal scary flicks in the next month or so, from Michael Myers to Jason Vorhees to Leatherface. But my spirit is still firmly planted in July.
Perhaps Saint Marty should buy a bag of candy corn to stir his inner October.
Candy corn! Yummy!
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