Reinvent and Reciprocate

We closed the pool today. And now that I have all the time in the world and nothing to do, I decided to put summer away. For good. While listening to Jeff Tweedy's new 3 cd release, Twilight Overdrive, I put it all away. Locked it up in the musty garage or the trashcan, whichever was more appropriate. I tore out the dried flowers and vines, the dead leaves that used to give way to lush green with delicate delicate peony petals. As Jeff sang to me, I heard every word, as if he was telling my story. "Scratching at the dead Golden lawn/A leaning doe and a shaking fawn/I called for you/Then they were gone/A planet without moons/A clock with no noons/Too late, too soon/Love is for love." I am silently mourning the loss of the summer, of a friend, of myself. While leaving my job was the healthiest thing for me, I feel a sense of betrayal and a void in what used to be purpose. I hope to find that purpose once again. But for now, the tires are spinning in the mud so deep I don't think I'll ever get out.