Today there was a cold drizzle falling when I got home after yoga. I knew there would be no outside shower. The time has come. I went out to collect my shower caddy and bring it upstairs to the tub. I turned on the water and as it hit the bottom of the tub for the first time since May, thoughts in picture form flew through my mind. Taking a glass of wine into the outside shower to get ready to go out for the evening. All the super hot mornings after yoga when that shower was the only answer after the hot room. And…oh…after a long hot day at the beach – nothing washed the sand out of my hair like that outside spigot.
By now the water flowing in the tub was warm. I stepped in. I looked down at the drain. I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t ready to move my shower inside – and, for the first time since I can remember, I wasn’t ready for summer to end. Most Septembers I’m usually getting out the pumpkins and wishing for cool, fall weather. This year I feel different, even though the house is decorated and the mulled cider has already graced the stove.
I’m different this year. I’m moving slower. Not physically, but emotionally. I’ve slowed down and taken time to feel my authentic self. Somehow I feel I need more summer, but before the melancholy sets in, I realize I can only get more summer by going through another winter. It’s a good thing winters here on the cape are mild and I do enjoy them.
Funny, how we absolutely have to go through winter to get more summer.
And so, as another day goes by, my shower caddy is in its winter home, cool temps n rain tell me hibernation is in the offing, and…I have written.
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