Although I hadn’t set an alarm to awaken me this morning I nonetheless succeeded to throw off the duvet upon hearing the grandfather clock strike the hour at eight o’clock. It was a sunny Saturday morning in early September. This daybreak revival enabled me to prepare for breakfast at the golf club as we had planned to do last evening.
On September 4th we overtook the Labour Day Weekend, a calendar event marked by its date (first Monday in September) and Public Holiday inscription, reminiscent of isolated beaches on Cape Cod, exceptional seafood dining and a confessed measure of ertwhile alcoholic prodigality. How sweet is the indulgence from afar! It is like a nutritional aroma feeding the memory of youth and gaiety.
In the past several days, paradoxically commingled with the unsurpassable fortune of fine weather, I have had the equally indescribable misfortune to acquaint myself more fatally than intended with several people of unsettling behaviour. Though I have distressed myself sufficiently – and as a result repeatedly lapsed into the vernacular to express my perturbation – the beneficial outcome has been what I am certain is common knowledge to many; namely, there are two ways to get down a river: either you know where to go or where not to go.
Today has been a day of unanticipated munificence. I speak of the bounty of life. Quite literally the world about me has proven to be a sumptuous picture of lavish generosity. The image was completed today by a cloudless azure sky, the enchantment of flat-bottomed boaters on the river, historical friendship and a startlingly uncommon dry late-summer air.
It is an odd though by no means uncommon circumstance that one loses one’s bearings. When this happens it translates even the most somber demeanour to a singular trajectory; thence to constrained endurance and eventually embracing a broad and unfamiliar orientation. In short things quickly become topsy-turvy. Indeed so awry is the sensation that there is a readiness to believe that one is unhinged. If I were to guess at a metaphor the ingestion of an unfamiliar drug might be the cause of the disquietude. The anxiety is otherwise inexplicable. Apart from the acknowledgement of one’s ephemeral existence for example, I haven’t any other enduring irritants in life; and, I hesitate to adopt an existential dynamic as an absolution.
What an unanticipated collision of events has today fortuitously transpired! In the instant of a breath, the landscape is an inexpressible combination of Nature and providence. We’ve now surpassed the end of August, the last of the much divined summer months. The Labour Day Weekend has begun.
I expected more traffic on the highway early this afternoon when I went for my usual car wash in Stittsville. But the passage was uncommonly tranquil. People have seemingly evacuated to their rural, riparian or other resort. The weather is certainly favourable. Yet it is distinguishable because there is a noticeably warm wind from the southwest. I sensed the balmy air when driving the car with the windows and landau roof open. The south wind is rich and soft. Later, upon my return home, I sat on the balcony and absorbed the long view to the river which was being stirred repeatedly by the gusts of mellow air.
Judging by the number of times I awoke throughout the dawn today, tossing and turning in a repeatedly failed attempt to subdue the stiffness and penetrating pain of my left (newly installed) knee and lower leg, it is correct to observe that I wasn’t sleeping at all well and that I hadn’t any precise idea of the time of day despite the fragments of daylight bordering the window blinds. I finally convinced myself it was time to withdraw from under the duvet. When I uplifted my sleep mask and positioned my iPhone at arm’s length towards me I saw that it was before nine o’clock. That at least was not a disgraceful start to the day by my latest standards of unemployment. But I wasn’t about to celebrate by perching on my tricycle for a morning purge. In fact further debate about the athletic topic precipitously lapsed when I was commissioned to chauffeur His Lordship to numerous retail venues.
Looking out the drawing room windows upon the nearby grey and mournful river evokes a sharp contrast from yesterday’s limitless sunshine, dazzling blue water and azure skies. It is a simple and fruitful reminder of the platitudes to which we unwittingly accustom ourselves. The moral lesson is the more easily digestible today in particular because it opened with an element of beneficence. We in turn reciprocated (itself a matter of lingering social profit and uplifting civility). The ensuing afternoon has been an agreeable re-enactment of typical communions. The day’s performance began drawing to close late afternoon with an impromptu repositioning to a serious analysis of gratitude. And if I recall correctly, within that forbidding dialogue surfaced the mention of prayer (though somewhat apologetically). The Church of England is deeply rooted.
The 9′ floor-to-ceiling windows in our drawing room afford an endlessly dynamic and prodigious view across the adjoining meadow and upriver to the Village of Appleton. Witnessing the occasional flat-bottomed watercraft on the river is like glimpsing a dazzling gemstone on a casual finger at table. Indeed during these summer months the colours are spectacular; viz., green, blue, yellow, white. It is evidence of the splendour that awaits in the autumn. And similarly prepares us for the bland recovery that is winter.
Contrary to my expectation the sometimes complicated exposition of daily living has fortuitously settled like the wings of a dove upon the unwitting panorama of my life. The contamination seems to have been overruled! At the same time I appear to have preserved some rationality. But there is no need to dilute this enquiry. So clarified is the air abounding that my vision is afforded extension, precision, artistry and colour. These are I know broad commendations. What isn’t so easily put to rest however is my lingering anxiety. The perpetual regret of anyone living a dream is that one day they’ll wake up!