Fall is into full swing here; we’ve had three snows (the last one 2 inches deep) and nights are getting cold, 20 degrees (Fahrenhight) on a regular basis. But the snows melt pretty quickly ,and it gets warm still, during the day. Why am I obsessed with the weather? Because it makes me sick. Literally. Every year, fall is my Achilles heel. I’m allergic to the mold that grows in decaying vegetation, and I’ve been sick almost non-stop for the past month. As soon as one “cold” leaves, a week later, another one begins. As a child, I was sick every Christmas, due to the mold living in the Christmas tree we kept.
What is this really about? I think part of it is a deep, subconscious rebellion against the inevitable death and decay that fall brings. I’m all about evolution of myself, my soul, and my outlook. Fall is about devolution, decay, and endings. Now we all know that all good things, and not so good things, must come to an end.
But ends make me nervous; I’ve had some endings that weren’t very happy. I’ve also had endings (can you say “divorce?”) that were scary, but gave me the freedom to rebuild. No matter how happy or sad I was about the end, I enjoy getting to rebuild. Logically, I know that the end must come, or it just gets in the way of rebuilding. Now, I can rebuild while destruction continues, but I must recognize that an end is coming if I want to rebuild in time for a smooth transition. But the grief of what is lost continues.
I’ve not gotten as critically sick this year, although this latest cold isn’t over yet. I know that it’s aggravated by unexpressed grief that I hold in my heart, which manifests as asthma and bronchitis. So far, I haven’t been as sick as usual, but it just won’t quit. It’s a partial victory; I’ll take it.
Soon, the real cold weather will come, I hope. When the temperature dips below zero
degrees for several days, the mold spores die, and I breathe freely for the rest of the year! My asthma takes a vacation again until the next year. I’d probably do better if I lived in the dessert, with no vegetation to die and decay. But I love Colorado, the rocks and aspens. I have no plans to ever return to the dust and tumbleweeds of west Texas. So, I’m just waiting for the bitter cold, free breathing, and a cleansing of the old. I need that clean sweep.