Fresh, Hot Wastes of Time

The elm tree in the back yard is already starting to turn color and drop leaves. It seems like signs of the impending season change come earlier every year. It’s hard to believe in autumn and winter when it’s 94 degrees outside. I wonder if a temperature drop will come early this year. I remember when I was a kid, maybe 13, my mom and I went to eat at a diner. Next door was a time and temperature banner. As we ate lunch, we watched the temperature drop forty degrees, from the nineties to the fifties.

One of my favorite things to do is watch a storm roll in. Texas gets some really fierce and elemental storms twice a year – first in spring, around May, which is when the tornado happened in Cedar Park and Jarrell; then in fall, when the cold fronts battle with the existing warm air. The ranch in South Texas is the perfect place to watch a cold front approach. The house is set on a high hill, with views that go on for miles. The view to the north and northwest is unfettered, and the lights from the refinery 5 miles away look like a fairy land from the hilltop vantage. Since cold fronts usually come from the northwest, I can sit outside at the picnic table for hours, watching the black wall of clouds and lightning approach. This viewpoint is also perfect for watching the sunset. In fact, it was my “safe place” thought during the 24 hours of labor I had with my first daughter. I pictured myself drinking a longneck, with a mild breeze in my face, and a perfect purple and orange and red sunset that lasted as long as I wanted; a star peeking out from between the tree branches above.

Mom told me that as I got older, time would go faster. I didn’t believe her then. Now I do.

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