I get nostalgic near the tail end of February. Of course the tail end of May, September and November too. I think a lot of people do, there’s something primal, instinctual, deep in the muscle memory that marks time with the passing of seasons, the way the environment changes around you. I get nostalgic for the Oregon seasons, but, you know, I think it’s just because Oregon was home base for two thirds of my life. I imagine if I were to go to Australia, and I’d like to, I’d have the same reactions for the changing of the seasons even though the calendar wouldn’t agree with the season I was expecting.
You’d think the nostalgia would be for my children. Yeah, no, when they leave the nest you have to reconcile that sort of thing; loving someone away from you, loving them loosely, and trying not to be in their business. Ex wives? The few people I know who have amiable relationships with their exs are 1) Big fat liars 2) small skinny liars 3) Weren’t actually married 4) the exception, not the rule. So, yeah, no, not ex-wives and nostalgia. The land itself? Yes, I miss my power spots in Oregon, and especially in spring, but I get Michigan nostalgia in the spring too. I think the missing the land in Oregon is a separate sort of nostalgia, and a sweet gnawing constant.
Dogs, however, also a sweet gnawing constant but I associate them with seasons. During Herschels brief decade on this planet he saw maybe five snowfalls total. Hmmm, in his backyard, we certainly visited places where is snowed much more frequently. This morning as I saw dawn break under a cloud of fat and lazy snow flakes I had this strong hit of Herschel sitting in front of the porch door, open, watching the snow and sniffing the air. I know, that’s not a season changing memory, but part of the reaction to the season changing is holding on to the passing one while anticipating the new one. Without both feelings the world turns into glass half something. The world isn’t really like that all, the glass is much more often a different fraction than half, in fact the dead mean of anything, the average stat is the anomaly. That and assuming there is fluid in the glass the whole point of object and content is to change the relative fullness — e.g. a half empty glass could mean you just had a full and satisfying draught of a glass full of your favorite fluid. Fluid being the operative noun, verb, adverb and adjective, it’s all fluid man.
Ok, the answer to the unasked question is yes, I do probably have something better to do, I might even get around to it.
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