It's Golden and Rare

The silence here is deafening tonight.  The windows are open and I can hear crickets.  They remind me that summer is not over...yet.  I can hear a jet off in the distance, landing or taking off, not sure.  There are traffic sounds out front and pleasant voices in a back yard to the rear of me, but in here, in my kitchen, complete quiet surrounds me. 

Normally I would put some music on.  But not tonight.  As much as I am tempted to break the silence, I am equally loathe to tamper with it.  Everyone is gone.  My girl, the cat, the hairdresser downstairs, even my ex-husband has moved out of town.  The whirlwind that has been my life for the past several months has slowed to a breeze.  A subtle, gentle, unobtrusive whisper. 

Just me, a cup of hot tea and and an empty nest.  There are a few minutes of dusk left, a haze of deep orange on the horizon that can be seen from where I am sitting and just now the sound of the fridge motor.  A car up the alleyway just started its engine, but that is it.  I had been longing for this moment for days.  Peace. Rest. Solitude.  Now it is here and I am not so sure about it.  I hear the voices of friends saying "Oh, they may drive you nuts, but you'll miss them when they are gone."  I will surely miss my girl, the shedding furball and his litter box, not so much. 

I need this right now.  This time to myself.  Time to reflect on yet another transition.  Time to re-group.  Re-focus.  Re-charge.  That's alot of "reeing" going on I realize.  However, this is the reality.  I have been running on empty for a few weeks now. 

Time to re-boot.  Start writing more again.  Pay closer attention to my diet.  Get back to my work-out routine.  Turn ebb into flow.  Regain some balance.  This renewal that has taken place so may times before as we head into September.  Even though my school days are long past, this time of year still conjurs up this feeling.  Fresh starts make sense now, like a packet of brand new Laurentian coloured pencils once did the first day of classes or a pair of new penny loafers or a new lunch box. 

For tonight however, all these plans can wait.  Park themselves, turn off the engine and just listen to this summer night.  Savour the peace and quiet and let the crickets sing me to sleep, and with any luck, let me sleep all the way through the night. 

After the marathon of life I have just run, the chances of that might be pretty good.

Nite all.