September. And suddenly, everyone is posting pictures of pumpkins and orange leaves. Here it’s about 83 degree fahrenheit and 80 percent humidity. Not feeling the pumpkin vibes quite yet. The air and the sky hint at autumn; more silence, more distance. The jays are crying from the trees. I always associate their call, the flashes of blue and white high in the branches, with the beginning of school. Leaving the countryside. When I was a child, I spent summers with my grandparents. This was after my father died. I loved being away from the city. The return was always painful. I remember looking at the window sill, covered in city grime, my desk facing the window, and taking paper towels to wipe everything off, watching the traffic go by. Maybe that means it seems normal to start thinking of a return to the city at this turn of the seasons. 

But I go to the city most days during the week, and flee in the evenings, to come back to quiet – ish, and birds. 

I’m in limbo, and maybe it’s time to think about what that means. The harvest season invites reflection. I can’t think about winter, not yet. To everything there is a season. Not all words that have religious connection need adherence to the cult to have meaning. To be fair, when I think of those words it is in the song Turn Turn Turn by The Byrds. 

I’ve been posting a lot on Substack lately – my blog there is called I Can’t Explain. I am going to post in both places – I think – but please come follow me there and support the journey. I’m waiting to hear about submissions, and working harder on getting the word out, so I appreciate you being there. There are people that still follow me who have been there since the first book! I don’t think I take time enough to consider how incredible that is, and how lucky I am and have been. I don’t take any of it for granted. The musicians I interviewed and reviewed, people who have read what I wrote and said something in response – those are interactions that left traces on me. The time I went into Rough Trade when it was still in Brooklyn, and I’d reviewed or interviewed nearly all the music they had on their new display. The Access books being best sellers on Amazon. The comments, both good and bad.

It’s the season of harvesting. I think I’ve planted some good seeds, and fed the birds and animals who depend on me. 

Sending courage and love to you all. 

Alice