I am busy this week and glad of it. It's a distracition, this controlled chaos at the track. I'm dealing with other peoples' needs, making certain they feel welcome and valued at this event. I like smoothing the way and the folks working this event are, like me, volunteers. They spend their hard-earned vacation time and dollars to come work safety for an international race and I think the least I can do is make 'em coffee in the morning, open some boxes of Danish pastries, and greet 'em with a smile.
I love Autumn. I love the turning of the leaves, the color and the scent, the feel of the air. I miss feeling the days turning crisp, watching frost etch the windows and turn the grass to a carpet of diamond dust. When I lived in NH, Autumn was a feast for the senses.
Here in Georgia, it's different. I love it here, don't get me wrong, and the seasonal change still happens...but it's muted, without the flare of a New England turning.
Every year, I feel a sort of joy combined with melancholy during this season. The days are cooler, and the leaves are turning, and...I miss the places of my childhood.
This week will pass the faster for having the race to work, for having something to do besides be reminded that I am fretful about things I won't discuss here, but that weigh on my mind. It will help to be surrounded by people from all over the world, to laugh at corny jokes, greet old friends, feed folks, and watch the Evil Genius charm their collective socks off (he does every year). Still...in the middle of it all...I know I'll have moments of yearning...moments of wistful thought...
Until someone asks me a question or needs something, and then I will paste the smile back on my face and see how I can help make their day, their race, a little better.
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