So there's that, as well as the fine leaf-scented air of mid-October vintage. Listened to Fr. Ian Ker on Chesterton and Newman from the Chesterton conference CD today. Rich material and gives me renewed hunger to read more of GK.
Might've been the last beautiful summer-like weekend of the year. It's certainly "pure gift", since nothing great after September can be expected; the old sun is too far away to be anything but punch-drunk. It feels like instant nostalgia, to see the hammock operative again. Front porch was uber-fine, sheltered from the wind and full of the seasonally appropriate wheezing of crickets and locusts. The birch with brilliant yellow leaves stands behind the fountain. An iron Victorian bench sits ready for an occupant. The dog lays flat against the door frame.
Walking [NYC] in those days, I was both surrounded by others and utterly alone, and it was this solitude within the crowd that made city life magical. It's what E.B. White was talking about when he observed that New York City 'blends the gift of privacy with the excitement of participation...insulating the individual (if he wants it, and almost everybody wants or needs it) against all enormous and violent and wonderful events that are taking place every minute.