Indian summer

Yesterday was a series of adventures, moments leading from one to the next. They were all different, all significant (to me) in one way or another.

I was up early, planning on meeting my friend Paul so that we could walk to the Superdome for my first Saint's game. I'd never seen them play live and I'd never set foot in the infamous Superdome, so it was a day for firsts. It was Paul's first game as well (he's from England, where they play football with their feet).

"So this is what Sunday morning in New Orleans looks like, eh?" he said as we walked through the quite morning streets. It made me think instantly of Johnny Cash's "Sunday Morning Coming Down".

We waited for Leo and another friend (also called Paul) at Cafe Adelaide, where I ordered a mimosa and Paul had a bloody mary with so many vegetables in it that it required pruning before he could drink it. We considered the fact that New Orleans has to be a great destination for away team fans, as opposed to, say; the appeal of New Orleanians going to Cleveland to see a game.

Leo and the other Paul arrived and we wandered to the Superdome, which was only a few blocks away. We talked excitedly about the differences in attendance from pre-Katrina until now and how Leo's been a season ticket holder for ages. While we climbed the stairs to go tot he terrace where we'd be sitting, people sang "When the Saints go marching in" and chanted "who dat" in a way that made me excited to be there. I considered that New Orleans has a beautiful ability to celebrate, even in a place that could have been tainted by tragedy. When I caught a glimpse of the field, I smiled brightly, happy to be there with the company I was keeping, having another unique New Orleans experience.

The game itself was a bit of a tragedy, but it was still fun to watch. Afterwards we walked home int he rain, stopping at an Irish pub to get a drink and then wandering on after the rain had ended so that we could get something to eat. We picked up and lost people along the way, but it was all good fun.

The entire night would turn out to be a changing cast of faces, with Paul being the one constant. We'd see our way from one place to the next and others would come and go, each of them leaving something memorable of themselves behind in the story of where we'd been all day. When Paul finally made his way home with his girlfriend, I wandered home myself.

I was enjoying the Indian summer, which allowed me to wear short sleeves into the evening for perhaps the last time this year. I could smell the little bit of dampness that the day of rain had left behind and it was nice. My footsteps were the only noise I could hear, which I noticed because such quiet is rare anywhere near the French Quarter. I thought about how it was time to carve a pumpkin and that I hadn't done that in years. I thought about how I wanted to dress up for Halloween, because it'd been a while since I'd really done that too. I thought about the places, the faces, the day that I'd seen, tasted, smelled and touched and I smiled, because this is my life and right now I can't imagine wanting any other.

Autumn

I've moved into a new apartment, something smaller, quieter, more to my liking. I had a wonderful space over a very loud bar that got louder as the year crept on and finally I relented and had to move. I lived there for fifteen months, which is the longest I've lived under any one roof since I was three years old. It was the first place that was my own after my divorce. I didn't really want to go, but I'm happier with where I am now; it's better for me.

The moving process was challenging as is often the case, but I'm sort of a professional at this now. I have sort of decided though that this is a profession I want to retire from; the moving of all of one's possessions from one place to the next. I've decided that my next move will only happen when I'm ready to sell all my possessions and live the gypsy life.

I haven't been back to the doctors office because of the move, but it's something I know that I need to do soon. I've been making excuses about monetary and time constraints, but the real reason I haven't been back is because I didn't want any bad news until I'd at least settled the move. Not that I have any particular reason to believe the news will be bad on the follow up, but, you know; one thing at a time.

I've been back on a Nina Simone kick the last few days. She's the soundtrack of autumn in my mind. At some point in my life she became the music that accompanies the transition of summer into fall and as we've gotten our first cold front she's been creeping into the corners of my mind. Last night was the first chilly evening and today I turned off the air conditioning, opened the windows and played "Black is the color of my true loves hair".

"If I could write out my own dream, for the next time that I sleep.."

Summer is coming to an end; I can finally feel it. Fall is around the corner and I'm waiting for it as patiently as I can. Fall is, after all, my favorite season.

I've committed to stay here in New Orleans for another year and that, coupled with the change of season, makes me a little restless to travel. The fall in particular always finds me wanting to go back to where I came from. I want to see the leaves explode in brilliant colors, watch them rain from the trees and walk over them, feel them crunch beneath my feet.

I want to go back to the Paint Creek Cider Mill and look at the cigar-store Indian like statue of chief Pontiac as I eat fresh, warm donuts and drink cider. I want to watch the wheel of the mill turn with fall of the water.

I want to see the family that I've been removed from for too long and make up for lost time. I want to see the friends that I've grown apart from in both lifestyle and geography. I want to drive past the places where we all used to live and look at them, appreciate them, in a way that is entirely different after all the things that I've seen, all the things I've done.

I'll never live in Michigan again, this I know. I don't visit it often enough, I'm sure of that too. I do however miss it from time to time, but even more so, I miss the people that I've left behind there.

The summer comes to an end here in the south and I know that fall has already begun in the north. I'll always be a wanderer, leaving little pieces of my heart in every place I've ever called home, giving big pieces of it to the people that I've loved along the way.

what I've learned

It's been a long week. A very long week. It's come at the end of three consecutive weeks, all very similar in their hectic nature, but different in what they accomplished and what I learned from them

I had a staph infection in my leg (a spider bite that got irritated from all the standing/marching/walking/rubbing of tight fabric against it), which caused it to throb regularly during the most crucial moments, of course. It's almost completely gone now, but I can see the toxicity in my face in the photos from Carnal Carnivale, and I remember thinking very feverishly that i was determined to not let it get me down, but promising to pace myself, go home early when i could, rest (i didn't).

I've had a chance to get reacquainted with some old friends this week; ones that I'd lost track of and missed dearly over the last few years, who've come back into my life in a very short span of time. In the matter of a few days I picked up nearly where I left off with friends that I'd thought were lost to me due to changes in lifestyle, geography and circumstance. I'm happy to have found them again (to have found you all again). I realized that some people were keeping better tabs on me than I might of imagined and it made me feel cared for, loved, in a way that only old friends can make you feel.

I've also found that some impossible situations aren't as impossible as they might seem, some things that seemed probable have proven unlikely and that missing someone isn't the same as wanting them back in your life. I've seen doors close, others open and found that some things that I thought I wanted, I really don't, while other things that I never considered have presented themselves to me and made me appreciate fresh perspective. It's been a week/month/year for learning what I want, what I accept and what I won't.