I can't remember
the last time I saw rain. It hasn't been years, or even months at this point. When you live in a place where three days in a row without rain is the exception to the rule, you tend to expect precipitation; when it doesn't materialize, one day melds into the next, time stands still and the last time you needed an umbrella is a fading memory.
In what are unusual times here in the Great North Wet, days without rain are certainly welcome. A lack of sprinklers means that most lawns go from green to gold. If you are trying to sell your house (as we are), you water the lawn by hand to keep the lush verdant appearance. The flowers are thriving in the relative warmth, the trees increase their height and the roses bloom and bloom again, all the recipients of long days of sunshine.
The azure sky is book-ended by the pastel colors of dawn and dusk. Too soon it will rain and the normal rotation of clouds with small glimpses of blue sky will return. As the year continues, we will pack away summer for another rotation around the sun. For the moment, we enjoy it being here, making vitamin D and taking in all that summer can supply.
The future seems far away for so long, and then it hits you like a dope slap.
My last full day with Sargento was June 10. I made a few trips into the office during that week, including a goodbye lunch for the Plant Manager, so that stretched it until June 14. I was paid through the end of the month, so (in my mind, anyway) maybe my official last day was June 30. In early July I still had corporate e-mail access, making it easy to continue to believe I was still tied to my friends and associates in WI and elsewhere.
It was going to happen eventually, and it came sooner than later. Earlier this week my access was revoked and I could no longer sign on to the external portal. I continued to deny my true separation from what, with little doubt, was the best company I have ever had the privilege to work for.
There is no denying it anymore. The electronic thread, tenuous at best, was finally broken.
Time will fly, each week/month/year moving faster than the last. We might stay in touch, but it far is more likely we will move on, the tide of life drifting us apart both in distance and time.
A while back I wrote that an era is truly known only when it is over. This period of time, marked by its distinctive characters and events, may not make the history books, but it was significant nevertheless for those of us who lived it.
The future seems so far away for so long...
In what are unusual times here in the Great North Wet, days without rain are certainly welcome. A lack of sprinklers means that most lawns go from green to gold. If you are trying to sell your house (as we are), you water the lawn by hand to keep the lush verdant appearance. The flowers are thriving in the relative warmth, the trees increase their height and the roses bloom and bloom again, all the recipients of long days of sunshine.
