Open Windows

Cooler weather thins the veil

Photo by Jon Eric Marababol on Unsplash

Hello friends,

October has arrived, and it is objectively the best month of the year. (I will not be taking comments on this universally acknowledged fact.) Here in Florida, October is subtle. The weather is finally shifting. Although we still toil our days away under 80-something-degree heat, the promise of fall comes in the evening. When the sun sets, the lead weight of summer lifts from our chests, and we know windows-open weather is nearly here.

Open windows invite many things. The cool weather comes in, of course, but so do other aspects of nature. Mockingbirds and blue jays dominate the conversation with their harsh calls, although the cicadas drown them out, their song coming and going in waves. The lighter whistles of titmice and cardinals flutter about in between. Neighborhood children send their laughter out on the breeze. Occasionally, the lazy growl of jet engines passes by overhead. Doves coo mournfully in the quiet pauses.

At night, the sounds change. The crickets and nightjars take over with a subtlety befitting of the dark. Great horned owls haunt the trees. But animals aren’t the only things to slink in through open windows in October. Just as the barrier between in and out fades with cooler weather, so too does the veil between worlds. We let ourselves believe in the things we can’t see, even if only for this month. We crave the chill that creeps over us. We open the windows and see what ventures in.

Until next time,
Yardena

WEEKEND POTPOURRI:

• Currently on repeat: new Wilco

• Hockey is officially back, although we’re still in pre-season. If you aren’t a hockey fan, I highly recommend reading my friend Trilety’s essay on how she became a fan of the game. Contrary to what I just said, it’s not an essay about hockey; it’s an essay about falling in love. Trilety also just wrote about falling in love with your own body. Lots of good shit, as usual, from this queen of visceral imagery.

• If video is more your style, here’s a gorgeous visual meditation from the forests of Yakushima.

• We now acknowledge Rachel Carson as one of the most influential conservationists of our time. But when she raised her concerns in Silent Spring, her critics saw her as a witch.

• Eleni Sikelianos converts the biological evolution of humans into words of poetry and connection to our ancient past.

Thanks for reading. This edition of Letters on Being is free, but if you enjoyed it, please consider sharing it with a friend or upgrading to a paid subscription. Also, are your windows open? What things accept your invitation?