Dawn, 11 - 19. Fall Days.

This past week has gone by rather quickly. And late summer is back again, after the rains of the previous week. Though the nights are chilly, I've been wearing shorts these days. But you can tell we're not really in August because of the way the mornings take a while to warm up, and by how the light has changed. Afternoons are nicely warm, but only after twelve or so, and until five thirty, when the light starts to advise a waning of the day, even though sunset is still around eight in the evening. That will will move back an hour when we return to standard hour at the end of the month. 

I have had errands most of these past mornings, and gone walking only one of them last week. Afternoons were occupied by my classes. So far, the afternoons have not dawdled, and I have reached eight o'clock a bit surprised on some days. The littlest kids and the oldest kids are the best ones. The littlest ones seem well-behaved and eager to learn. The eldest are also well-behaved, eager to learn, and curious of the world that awaits them. The middle ones are the most problematic, though at the moment they haven't posed any greatly errant behavior. I should buy a folding table, though, just in case, to set it up in the hallway to separate the biggest troublemakers.

Yesterdday, I didn't have classes because, since today is the Día de la Hispanidad, Día de la Virgen del Pilar, or Día de la Fiesta Nacional, (take your name pick) it's a holiday. So, we have had a long weekend in the school world, as well as those companies that think it problematic to have a work day between two rest days because of productivity problems (not the case of my husband's employer, *sigh*).

It's been a holiday more or less since the end of the nineteenth century, I suppose in an attempt to maintain good ties with newly independent Latin American countries (and remind indigenous folk they still didn't count, even if the Spanish empire no longer ruled them). It was first declared a holiday by the Regent Queen, María Cristina, in 1892, to celebrate the four hundredth anniversary of Columbus' reaching American shores. It also happens to be the celebration of yet another name for the Virgin Mary, the Virgen del Pilar, patron saint of the city of Zaragoza. Perhaps one of the only good things about this holiday, is that it's a gateway holiday to the fall and winter holidays. Next one up, All Saint's Day on November 1st. Then we have the double whammy of December 6th (Constitution Day) and December 8th (Immaculate Conception), before the major holidays of Christmas, New Year's Day, and Epiphany.

Yesterday morning I did go for a walk in the woods. I chose a different path to reach there, but I don't like it as much because it seems to take longer to reach the highway behind our hill, and it's quite steep most of the way. I wish the one I was taking in the spring could be cleared, but I would need a brush cutter or a chainsaw, and I really don't know how to use either of them. Perhaps a charitable person might drive a heavy-duty tractor along it one day. 

I sometimes wonder about taking a small scythe with me, but I would have to stop so much to use it, I wouldn't get very far. I'll just keep twisting back broom branches, and hitting back gorse and brambles with my walking stick. Winter is coming soon, and a few torrential rains after some hard frosts might clean away some of the undergrowth. As well as some of the tracks, judging by the looks of three or four of them.

Apart from exercise, and helping to keep my heart and lungs a bit healthy, walking in the woods is so calming. Yesterday morning, close to the ground the air was still, but up in the tree tops, the wind was singing with the branches. Looking up, I watched the wind play with the eucalyptus trees, waving their long, flexible arms in unison with the wind's twirls. I almost got as dizzy as when watching the waves coming in to shore at the beach. A few birds were about, especially where the morning sun was already hitting. Two robins played hide and seek on some low boughs, and then flew off. A hidden bird was singing in a soprano voice somewhere. The wind held a bit of the night chill, but the new sun warmed me well whenever I was caught in its rays. When I came round a bend in the path, I could then hear the muted roar of the highway far below, pretending to be the roar of the sea. I hope I can go walking again this week.

Life continues.