Seasons

New Orleans has its own relaxed rhythm anytime, but in the summer, the pace slows to lethargy. The soundtrack behind our rhythm is mellow and sweet. We are not interrupted by the sound of construction or road repair. The faint aroma of decay is mingled with the smells pungent cooking and acrid gunpowder that accompanies the sound of shots that startle and punctuate the easy pace.

We rouse ourselves and pay attention, then slump back into the sloth that is built into The Big Easy. Even those who are disinclined to exertion are alert to a party or a parade or a scandal. We are not unlike the ancient Romans who were distracted by “bread and circuses”. We note and then ignore the crooks at the top because we are busy preparing for the next party or festival.

In the fall, it all changes. The soundtrack of our lives gets faster and louder. We move to an anticipatory beat – knowing what’s to come. The big holidays will come again and we’ll ride the wave all the way onto the beach of next summer.

It’s all in the seasons of our lives.