Sunday, February 26, 2012

February Fall

Isn't it amazing when a memory takes you right back? The weather today is unusual, by Qatari standards. When I came down to the kitchen and looked out the window this morning, I was surprised by the muddy, speckled mess that was our outdoor furniture. Clearly, it had rained. As Kaiya says, in Qatar it often "rains dirt." That's what happens in the desert. Ah, it had rained... and I had missed it!

As I drove into work today, the QBS radio broadcaster stated that it would remain a "windy and chilly 19 degrees" today. I had to smile as I thought of typical Niagara weather in February, generally my least favourite month of the year.

Yes, it was windy and well, almost chilly today. But there was a distinct difference. The air felt remarkably fresh and clear, and as the day continued, a beautiful blue sky presented itself, not the gray-ish/brownish haze of sun peeking through dust that we've grown so accustomed to this winter.

It seems that little rainfall helped clear things up a bit.

After I came home, all that I wanted to do was sit out back with a glass of red, saluting the day while watching it fade with the setting sun. And as soon as dinner was in the oven I managed to get myself out there. A rare moment of quiet fell upon our house while Kaiya coloured and Jeff prepared the rest of the meal, and I found myself in a funny, wonderful place.

I sat, taking in deep breaths of the cool, fresh air. I sipped my wine and pulled my sweater a little closer. I watched the trees (and not the palm ones) sway in the wind, and let my eyes blur out while taking in the fading colours of the sky. And suddenly I was RIGHT THERE. I was sitting on the front porch of George Street. I could actually see the concrete of the porch, the yellow spray foam in our front windows, smell the late-fall barbecues, watch the questionable neighbours stroll by with their 7/11 Big Gulps. I saw mothers pushing strollers, red, yellow, and brown leaves, a big, gray, puffy cloud sky. I heard car doors slamming as people returned home from work, leaves crunching underfoot, mothers yelling after children, and Sarah calling a friendly "hello" while pulling into her drive.

It's amazing to me how something as simple as the weather can take you right back. It's so etched in our bones... the place where we come from. All it takes is a cool, windy day to take me to mid-October and remind me I'm Canadian. Even now, as I write this post, I lean against the open back door, taking in just a bit more of the crisp, fresh air, taking in just a little more of the moment before calling it a night.

It'll be sweet dreams tonight. I can feel it.

3 comments:

Suzanne said...

Thanks for that great description and the fabulous memory. Home. It is amazing how deeply set it is inside.

Beth said...

Sweet dreams. Love your words.

Rose said...

Oh, so good.