As an odd child (written lovingly) of the later twentieth century, I have always had this strange affinity for all things “Belle Epoch.” My old soul, yet young person, always felt an intense draw to things from an era that I would not possibly have known about at such a young age.
Whatever one’s beliefs on reincarnation, I felt so utterly out of place in the era in which I was born. The Belle Epoch art scenes, culture, world politics, fashion, leisurely lifestyle, and every other aspect ran continuously through my mind like old black and white reels that I could almost see. Not until I was much older did I start making connections with the possibility that I indeed was back in this world once again. My “Somewhere in Time” moments would come on strong with certain scents or visual cues, leaving my heart racing to remember for more than a second’s flash.
Here we are in September, and I have that same pull to a phrase from one of Dorothy Parker’s poems. With her line, and the “rangy lilac pushes upward, upward through my heart,” I feel her emotion of the summer’s end, lost decades, and my own sense of the long past years pushing through my body. In whatever decade our souls find themselves, September is a reminder of an end to come and the start of a transition into a new season and the next stage in life.
Another year seems to have passed by too quickly, and another winter is about to return. These decades pass with the same cycles and the lilacs mark time, becoming gnarled with long lost memories.
Despite the maudlin nature of most autumnal prose, I do look forward to these transitions in the calendar and these moments to feel the longing of years from generations past. Perhaps one September will find my soul back from where it came, amongst the friends and feelings that are mere mind shadows now. Until then, my current path is quite fulfilling.
It is not a secret amongst my current set of friends that I wish I were back with the friends I know I had, and the life from which I lost somehow to father time. What does September say to you, friends of this era? What are the deeper songs in your soul?
It is September third, quite early in the morning and I am writing this on our rear terrace, watching nature wake up in the meadows. It seems as if all the creatures are taking in the joys of this September morn. The sun hitting the large, ovate, leaves of the paw-paw grove has unwittingly unleashed a fleeting yellow glow in the distance. The scene is sublime, luminescent, and only seen by me and the song sparrows flitting in the Viburnum hedgerow. We are the lucky ones. I am sure this yellow, hazed moment will be one of those future September pulls, a harkening that will flash in my future aged mind, as I lay in the sun remembering a long-ago joy.
Relish this September and the contemporary feelings she brings. The kids are back in school and there is freedom within to find moments of contemplative solitude amidst the sweet smells of fields of goldenrod and aster. Be good to yourself this month and always.
See you in the shoppe! We are busily moving in ten directions to make way for the fall celebrations and of course the snow that will fly bringing in holiday cheer and décor.
And my lips are petals, spinning
Down the wind that has beginning
Where the crumpled beeches start
In a fringe of salty reeds;
When my arms are elder-bushes,
And the rangy lilac pushes
Upward, upward through my heart……