Musings on the season

Listening to: John Legend and the Roots – Wake Up! (2010) – A nice mix of funk, soul, blues… and everything nasty like that.

There I was, sitting there on my roof, admiring the clear night, sky full of stars, a few clouds in the eastern horizon, and a fresh moon rising to the southeast. Sometimes, especially in the winter, the moon is so bright, and vivid. I noticed my feet getting cold through my plastic-rubbery blue souq sandals. I took a breath, more aware of what was occurring. Fall was encroaching, and seemingly there was no transition. Summer was just…gone. Abducted by some place, or just taking a brief slumber before migrating south.

I thought to myself “I am not ready for you winter, mentally, or physically.”

Hopefully this thought will change, and my body will catch up with the sharp transition of the seasons that has just occurred in my life. We bottomed out the other night at maybe 45 I think, but then again I am such a poor judge of temperature in Morocco due to not being used to lacking humidity (Oh the Midwest!) Maybe it was colder.

This week the kiddies started back to school. This is both a relief and burden. Relief in the fact that during the day, they actually have something productive to do, and therefore do not become their usual nasty jerk-like selves (not all the kids of course are like this.) The burden is that if I decide to go outside in the morning, noon, or late afternoon, there are kids wandering the streets to/from school, and a number of them do not know me. I then receive an onslaught of “Bonjour”s and random French conversation. While over the year and half roughly of my existence here, this has really decreased, and it makes me feel good when I get greeted with a typical “Salam”. But in a village as large as mine, I have no chance of knowing EVERY kid.

Took a bike ride today. It was refreshing. The cool evening air brushing against my face and whispering greetings of fall in my ear. The clouds had gone, and I was able to see the remnants of the sunset. The high mountain near me to the south, Jebel Masker, was reddish in hue. It reminded me of red sandstone, and what I would picture parts of the US west to be like (haven’t been there.) The typical color is brown/gray/black, brown for the soil and dead plants, and gray for the slate that is the rock type of Masker. I can say the red was gorgeous, and while I am anticipating the winter hardships, this was certainly a happy welcoming to Autumn. Sunsets like this occur more often in fall and winter than any other time.

People seem to be busy again, and on some days the streets are all but empty. I am trying to stay busy with my own work, both Peace Corps and applications for grad schools. The vast difference in just a matter of a week or two is much sharper than last year. Maybe I am just so tuned into the way things work this year, and I did not notice it.

Most nights, I climb up to my roof, and gaze at the stars. It is a wonderful view, and one I’m not likely to ever forget once I finish this chapter.