Friday, October 12, 2012

Falling Leaves? Not here.

Living near a large body of water--I am at the widest point on the Allegheny River--puts a unique spin on life.  Life in the tiny village of Rosston is different, and our residents either learn to adapt, or they bitch their way through life.

We have just passed our busiest time of year, otherwise known as boating season.  Since I live a few yards from a large marina--a marina, which, I might add, doesn't provide enough safe and convenient parking for their normal daily visitors, let alone special events too big for such a tiny village--I am generally one of the residents who bitches her way through the warm weather months, and impatiently waits for cold weather to arrive.

Thankfully, chilly days and cold nights are here at last.  It's October, and my street has been transformed from a nearly impassable parking lot to a regular two-lane blacktop.  I can actually access my driveway without a battle, and I'm able to step outside my door without being run down by a jogger, walker, or cyclist.  Pick-ups still come and go daily, headed for the public boat launch at the end of my street, but the floating hotels that are normally docked just beyond my front door, are headed for storage.

Traffic has thinned, but my leaves are still verdant, and though outlying areas have a thick carpet of gold underfoot and bare branches showing, I will be forced to wait a few more weeks for the frost to stunt the grass growth, and tip the leaves with red and gold.  Big water means fog, and fog blankets the river valley and insulates us from hoar frost until mid-November. 

Cold weather is quieter here, and quiet means a greater productivity.  I have five projects in various stages of production, and a sixth steeping within my writer's group.  There are previously published novels to be scanned and made available once again in digital format, and scans to be edited.  Yes, on the outside, the cold weather months are quieter, slower paced, more restful.  But beyond my front door, in the sanctity of my office, creative bedlam still reigns.

Sparky and Boo are more adaptive than me, and they tussle and play, and sleep.  Season to season, they remain my steadfast companions. . . complaining only when we run out of chicken wings.  Wishing everyone a colorful autumn!


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