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Bolt my wanderings in

Twilight at five, 40-m.p.h. gusts, and, this morning, hail. Thanks to a Facebook friend, I remembered the right song for today.

I awoke today and found
the frost perched on the town
It hovered in a frozen sky
then it gobbled summer down
When the sun turns traitor cold
and all the trees are shivering in a naked row

I get the urge for going

But I never seem to go
I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
Summertime is falling down and winter is closing in

This will be a hard year to let go of--the year when I actually got the urge and went.

Sorry, no year-long odyssey of eating, praying and loving, but one week in Italy this spring, alone, was enough. As Miss Alma Winemuller said, Give me the hour and I'll make a lifetime of it. And I did, in Rome...


...and Turin, where at sunset I pondered my day's encounter with the Shroud, as the swallows cruised over the chimneypots...


 ...and Milan, where I spent a single day and clambered over the roof of the Duomo.

And if that weren't enough, this summer Spouse, Daughter and I spent a dreamlike fortnight in England and Scotland. This is a mountain called Catbells in the Lake District, where we stayed in a farmhouse that was ancient when Beatrix Potter vacationed nearby.

Now belts get tightened and sights get set on a financial goal far more outlandish than transatlantic travel: college. And before that, there are leaves to rake and a winter to face. Thank you, Providence, for 2010, and thank you, Joni, for a song to ease its passing.

I'll ply the fire with kindling now
I'll pull the blankets up to my chin
I'll lock the vagrant winter out and
I'll bolt my wanderings in
I'd like to call back summertime
Have her stay for just another month or so

But she's got the urge for going

So I guess she'll have to go
She gets the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
All her empire's falling down
And winter's closing in.
And I get the urge for going
When the meadow grass is turning brown
And summertime is falling down.
© 1966; Siquomb Publishing Company

Posted on Monday, November 8, 2010 at 03:08PM by Registered CommenterBrenda from Brooklyn | CommentsPost a Comment

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