Windows Are Open!

A perfect day in August

We have had a very hot and humid summer. Boiling, I’ve said, though of course that is not literally true. Our air conditioning has been running nonstop. This morning it was a delicious 59 degrees when I woke up, 64 when I went out for my fast walk, and now just 69—in August! The sky is bright blue and the sun, high above, absolutely gorgeous streaming through the abundant green leaves. A perfect day. A perfect day for just about anything.

Finally, my windows are open! La!

I have a front row seat at the open air concert of cicadas, crickets, and birds this morning. No need for glorious Bach, Vivaldi, Mozart, or Beethoven right at this moment. Nature’s chorus fills me to the brim. I hear the crescendo and diminuendo of cicadas, rising and falling in unison to the baton of a secret conductor, creating a sort of aural murmuration. What makes them swell and soften all together like that? If you know, don’t tell me! I love the mystery of it. Cardinals, wrens, and chickadees show off their lovely voices, while blue jays and hawks shout and cry. Crickets hum. Woodpeckers drum. Nature’s chorus is made up of many voices and their language mystifies us.

My windows are open!

Pollen is high lately, particularly the evil ragweed, to which I am susceptible. But I cannot care. How could I keep the house shut when I have all of this? It would be madness to close it out.

My windows are open!

I’m reminded of the Amos Lee song, “Windows Are Rolled Down.” There’s some sadness to the lyrics but it’s a beautiful song and it has a sense of freedom to it. It’s a driving down the road with the windows down, singing out loud, and who knows where you’ll end up sort of feeling. Just like this day. You could change your life if you wanted to. Or you could live your regular life better than ever. Anything might come in, anything could be done or dreamed of on this day. Writing and painting, even though I’m indoors, seem to flow more freely, with only a window screen separating me from the world of inspiration that lives out there. Along comes a lovely cool day with the kiss of a breeze through an open window and I feel like just about anything could happen.

I’ve certainly had loads of fun writing this. But now I have to admit that, as usual in August, I’ve had to shut up the house, after all. Pollen. Evil ragweed. The familiar headache and body aches have crept in. Now it feels more like it would be madness to keep the house open and just feel rotten. I’m tricked in this way every year on that first beautiful cool day. I think, Oh, who cares? I am fine! But no. It never lasts very long. One cannot paint or write with aplomb while feeling crappy. Oh well. That is August, here in mid-Missouri, at least for me. Nonetheless, I did so love enjoying the breeze through the windows for a few hours. I adored all of those winged creatures making their joyful racket. But I will love painting this afternoon while shielded from the pollen. It is a tiny problem in the grand scheme of things. Tiny.

My windows are closed! Already I feel better.

“Set wide the window. Let me drink the day.” - Edith Wharton

“When I was a girl in Blundermeecen, we left the window open for this very reason, even in the winter. We did it because we believed something wonderful might make its way to us through the open window. Did wonderful things find us? Sometimes yes, sometimes no.” - Kate DiCamillo

“It's a huge disservice to classify all minds as either closed or open. I find the best minds are closed by openable windows.” - Criss Jami

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Thanks for listening,
Kay

P.S. MerryThoughts is the name of my first book, out of print at the moment. The word is a British one, referring both to a wishbone and to the ritual of breaking the wishbone with the intention of either having a wish granted or being the one who marries first, thus the "merry thoughts."