Tidying

Lots of big ol’ jellies washed up in Seward 

fall time

more fall time 

After a few days of limbo in smoky Seward, we three kitcheneers hatched a plan to see the Alaska state fair.  In addition to record-breaking squash and pet-able goats, we were determined to see preeminent jam band/white reggae artists extraordinaire Slightly Stoopid.  The trip took us north past Anchorage, where we delighted in Vietnamese food and I rejoined the segment of the population that owns hiking boots.  

There’s probably one of those long compound German nouns, a word to describe responding to chaotic and trying circumstances by making and eating decadent food.  Friends evacuated and scattered to the winds, and a small corps of us returned to the wildfire zone to close up camp.  Of course it’s only natural not to let good things go to waste and to put extra care into meals with a more intimate group, but there’s also some ineffable force that goads us to elaborately affirm our humanity in the face of an inevitable terminus.

It’s been easy to overlook the yellowing leaves and crispness in the air, but fall is indeed here.  It gets dark, and it gets dark at a normal-world time.  The merest drizzle of rain combines with spent foliage to saturate the air with the scent of decomposition.  “And I miss you most of all, my darling/when autumn leaves start to fall.”