Friday, March 8, 2013

On school conferences and sunsets

Unable to concentrate on my book, I sat in the parking lot and watched as the sun dipped below the horizon with the utmost economy, saving its brilliant splendor for another day and a more mindful audience, leaving behind only a few faint streaks of orange in the haze.
My mind found comfort in the rhythm that came from the tires of passing cars crossing the seams in the street—thunkthunk, thunkthunk, thunkthunk—providing monotonous relief.
And I was vaguely aware of questioning which direction the late winter wind was blowing, which carried with it the faint sound of the church bells announcing the hour, 6:00 p.m.
The conference at school had gone well.
So I could not help but wonder what had caused the imperceptible shift of temperament, like the transition that I had just observed from day to night.
I had slipped.  The melancholy returned, if only for a moment.
But today is another day and the sun hangs high in the sky, dazzling and bright.


  1. The Son always shines. I can only attempt to understand your melancholy, but I think I understand why you felt it. Back to reality. You work hard. At your job and at your job as David's mom. You succeed - at both posts...and I am so very proud of you. Without you and your research, your love, your drive and your family - David would not be what he is today. That alone should push that melancholy away.

  2. The wife of my shrink's favorite saying was: "this too shall pass".