an old writer and his words

  • TEMPUS, MEH

    As kids we knew that timewasn’t all that important,it was a concept of little meaningexcept that with which we imbued itand all of our senses coulddo things we never imagine.But now, at my age, timehas taken on new meaningas it compresses, andseasons are marked bybarely perceptible changesin temperature and humidity.The factories along the riverare mostly…

    Lou Faber

  • BACKROADS

    When you drive on back roadsyou develop a differentsense of direction, of place.You know you’re in the Southby the trees, Spanish mosshanging like heavy rainand stealing the leavesof smaller trees, andall manner of thingshanging from or affixedbetween trees, a tire swing,something passing for a hammockand endless clotheslinesannouncing that herethe seasons are measuredby rainfall and temperaturesthat…

    Lou Faber

  • SEASONS

    Here we measure seasonsby small changes in temperatureand for one, heavy rainfall. We are the calendar reliant,otherwise left to look at the moonand count to ascertain roughly what month it might be, butwe now live in a solar calendarworld so our lunar effortsare necessarily doomed to failure. And holidays are different here,Christmas has no snow,so…

    Lou Faber

  • DINNER PARTY

    Technology has effectivelydestroyed the intimatedinner parties that oncewere the core of a social life. You fretted over whetherthe souffle would collapse,if the wine was chilledto the right temperature,if the entree was back timedsufficiently to allow timefor the hors d’oeuvresand if the guests wouldarrive at the scheduled time. Now it is a fear that Grubhubor Doordash…

    Lou Faber

  • WINTER, AGAIN

    The snow began falling this morning the dry, almost greasy snow that defies the plows running up and down the streets, too shallow for the salters to begin. Cars slide to a stop, or nearly so, at the intersection, and you know it is merely a matter of time before two will simultaneously, and there…

    Lou Faber

  • EARLY ARRIVAL

    Autumn came on hard today the drop in temperature not unexpected in these climes, but still unwanted, forcing the closing of windows. Still, as the afternoon faded, I shouted toward the window a reminder not to go gently into night to fight the soon approaching dark. The squirrel on the lawn outside the window stood,…

    Lou Faber

  • APPROACHING WINTER

    The temperature falls, slowly at first but gaining speed, as though in the grip of winter’s gravity. Winter has the potential to be a black hole season into which we enter and imagine we will never reemerge into spring. The wind whispers stories to us of a time when this was all ice when no…

    Lou Faber

  • WINTER TWO VIEWS

    The small dog frolics in the snow — now appearing from, now disappearing into clouds of flakes, while his master stands in the door cursing winter. As the temperature slides below zero, even the snow imagines itself a wave cresting onto a South Florida beach.

    Lou Faber