About Time

     Across the back of my yard there is a row of a dozen blue spruce trees.  Since we moved in to this house, I have marked the passage of the seasons by watching the sun rise behind those trees. This morning I woke up before six “enjoying”, as my sons would say “a personal tropical vacation”. Seeking relief, I made my way down to the deck, stopping off to make a pot of coffee on my way. When my coffee and I stepped out onto the deck, it was cool, dark, still, and silent. Peaceful.
     As I sipped my coffee and watched the sun rise I was amazed, once again, by the world awakening all around me. Oscar bin Laden, terrorist kitty, joined me on his favorite perch atop the covered gas grill. The sky began to lighten directly behind the row of trees and I was reminded that the autumnal equinox is quickly approaching. The breeze picked up, birds began to chirp in the maple tree, and the sun breached the horizon, spilling gently through the center spruce tree. In the distance the rumble of the first school bus approached the neighborhood.
     Then the sadness washed over me. This is the first time in my adult life that I am not involved in the start of a new school year in some way. Weird. My children are grown and the one who is still in school is on the other side of the country. I am not working in academia so there is no significance to the beginning of the year for me. There is no excitement at meeting new teachers, or classmates, or students. There were no trips to buy school supplies or the “cool” clothes. There is no need for the family calendar marking the dates and times of practices, games, and concerts.  Nothing.  Just the sounds of the endless stream of school busses coming and going from the neighborhood.
     This year I will not mark the passage of time by midterms or school breaks, I will not watch the syllabus for the next assignment. I will mark the passage of time as the sunrise moves across the spruce trees to the south and then again to the north.