"The flowers anew, returning seasons bring; but beauty faded has no second spring."– Ambrose Philips
Already it’s hot out – a week of >80F in my yard. At least the hot flashes of summer are merely summer weather these days. Relax, it’s only the postmenopausal postmodern condition, not the approach of doom and night sweats. The Chinese refer to menopause as a woman’s second spring. Mom called it The Change. Californians call it midlife transition.
Menopause isn’t a pause at all. It’s more like a running stop. It’s Wylie Coyote, running two steps beyond the edge of the cliff. Suspended in midair, before gravity kicks in, he floats, dawning surprise filling his eyes. Menopause is that moment, only it stretches out month after month.
This season is like that fall – I’m still sowing hope, but I cringe anticipating the landing of coming summer, and what I might never reap. The hot dry desert looms below Wylie. The desert floor, simply obeying the laws of gravity, welcomes him. He has plenty of time to wish the fall would be over and he’d land already.Thus Spring passes, with no promises, and Summer advances on my unsuspecting young seedlings and transplants. Grasshoppers are already mowing down the last of the lettuce and the beans left behind by the rabbits. I hope the grasshoppers leave me a few sunflowers. No second spring here, grasshoppers, nothing to see here. Please move on.
3 comments:
We'll get over 80 here in SE MIchigan today, too. I closed the windows by 9 AM to hold in the overnight coolth, which worked quite well yesterday. I'll have to drag out the hoses and sprinklers soon. At least, surounded by four of the Great Lakes, Michigan doesn't lack for water.
As for menopause stretching out for months—hah! Are Wile E.'s cheeks as red as mine as he falls? It's been nine years, and the hot flashes are even more frequent. Think it's time to find a bio-identical HRT doc.
Your post has made me think over the last day or so. As far as the weather is concerned I love the dry season. I moved from Wales because I hate (and am allergic to) damp grass. Metaphorically, though, I'm not so sure. I find middle age liberating - for the first time in our lives Lo Jardinièr and I do what we please without anyone else to be responsible for, but ... the downside is the knowledge that it won't last, the feeling that time is running out. I feel annoyed with myself for not doing everything I want to do when soon it may be too late. I just hope that I can keep running in mid-air for a bit longer ... not much we can do about it anyway!
Ironic that it is so dry in certain parts of the country, and yet we are complaining about all the rain. I guess I should be thankful that my flowers will still grow.
The Chinese were very wise, but I think I'd have to disagree with the notion of menopause as a "second spring." It feels like an endless hot, dry summer to me:)
Post a Comment