SPRING BEGS COMPLETION
you know … nuts & bolts, sugar & spice, sweet & sour, spring & —?
—autumn. You got it, yay! Moving on …
so your spring is our autumn. How nice the way they fall together—which makes the following contrasts all legal. I hope.
SPRING in Esk Street, a year or so back. Some parts of the world have lovely soft light—Scotland’s lighting is best described as ‘liquid’ … ours in Invercargill is the luminous equivalent of rocks. But sometimes even that works …
… and sometimes with the best will in the world, it don’t. In a week or three those trees, so part-of-the-woodwork in summer, will be just bare branches and shivering twigs. ‘Twas ever thus. Even the park, which looked like this just a few brief weeks ago——
—is already turning. Strolling lovers, snappy tourists, dogs exercising overweight owners, mothers with pushchairs and even (get this~!) a jogger in a motorised wheelchair will be replaced by only the needy taking essential shortcuts.
I feel a pang of panic. Don’t get me wrong, I love all seasons, as does The Spouse. But winter should be one brief fall, one brief snowing, one frost only … and then back into birdsong and leaping lambs. Smoothly …
—so gather ye nuts while ye may. The gentle colours of spring and the warmer colours of autumn become, as it were, mere homes for bugs, and dinner too—