27 September, 2010

sundays, autumn, suburbia

i have always found sundays suffused with a certain melancholy, an emptiness, an almost imperceptible gap between the expected and the proffered. the same can be said of early autumn. both have the bittersweetness of an artificial sweetener - almost the real thing, but not quite: a hollow emptiness insufficiently masked. sunday, still almost the weekend but tinged with the burnt taste of upcoming school days; early fall, not quite summer anymore, the chill in the shadows belying the sunlit heat. almost, but not quite. a counterfeit that reveals the wrong brushstrokes to those in the know.

north american suburbs are similar in their superficial attempt to mimic the neighbourhoods of our past, all lanes and lawns and sipping lemonade on the porch swing. almost perfect, except wait, there's nobody there. no children playing, no neighbours leaning over the fence to exchange tips for dealing with an overabundance of apples or zucchini, no human voices at all, in fact. the empty almost-sweetness of nutrasweet, fooling nobody except those who wish to be fooled.

i will work on embracing the end-of-days aspect of sundays and autumn, because they, in the fullness of time, will become new days and seasons. i refuse to join the suburbs, there is no life in them. i may have a hard time dealing with the circular path of life, the need for death to bring forth new life, but i am working on it. nobody can convince me that in the fullness of time the suburbs will ever become anything other than a burial ground of consumerist illusions.



5 comments:

Alison Cross said...

This is beautiful, but very melancholy :-)

I always hated Sundays because they were a non-day here. All you could do was go to church and wait for decent telly to start sometime after 5pm with some brilliant BBC kids drama.

Ali x

Lucy said...

You're a dear thing. This is very lovey, and you are distilling and transmuting your Sunday and autumn ennui and dissatisfaction into something fine, in fact.

Thank you for blog-rolling me. I like your foul language etc very much and am very honoured, and shall return the compliment. I also think that your blog title is very cool too, indeed piquant and salty!

Anonymous said...

When I worked four days a week I used to have Mondays off instead of the typical Friday because I wanted to enjoy my Sundays more. And moving away from the hellish Alberta winters has certainly helped with the autumn blues. But nothing could ever make a suburb better. Great post.
G

Anne said...

Really well done. I am totally and shamelessly going to steal your nutrasweet metaphor.

(Also like the new background; I've been reading you in Reader and only just noticed.)

the polish chick said...

ali, at least the church-goers have that. perhaps this is god's revenge for me going from one of his staunchest supporters to a raging atheist.

g, even with mondays off, my soul wasn't fooled and i still had to work hard on liking sundays.

anne and lucy, thank you. i occasionally put something out there that is not studded withe the word "fuck." perhaps i should do it more often.