kormorany

Has anyone become tired here of the ending summer theme? Really not? Honestly?

With the official close of summer (tomorrow afternoon), I put a close to brooding. The seasonal malaise, fueled by wistful rides past yellowing fields of soy has to stop. You can’t in one breath say you’re all about the colorful, changing landscape (I love a crisp fall! I love the new school year! I love living in a place with four seasons!) and in the next – tear it apart (I miss summer! I hate the gray of November! Look one last time at the barefoot women and shirtless men on the UW campus!)





Though really, I'll admit it, change is difficult. Only spring manages to gallop in without so much as a shrug of concern for all those who happened to have loved February or March.

So, let me stumble along, as I become, with each day, more and more accustomed, as we all will be, to the shift away from summer, toward the dull, cold, bleak, gray days of late fall. Can’t wait.

In the meantime, I'll be listening to Kormorany, A Polish song that I learned to love in 1966, when I returned to Poland from the States. It speaks of the shift from summer to fall. Kinga, one Polish-American reader who occasionally checks in here, this one’s for you. The rest of Ocean readers, well, you may enjoy seeing what was hot (music-wise) in Poland in 65-66. Not up to the standard of the Beatles? Oh, how little you know about what pulls at the Polish heart!