Word of the Week - 120

Big Sur Coast, photo by Vern Clevenger.

Word of the Week:  NEPENTHE

The start of no other season transports me to earlier times in the same manner as summer.  As Los Angeles began to swelter on Saturday, my thoughts drifted to an A&W Root Beer drive-in, oasis in Paso Robles on the vacation road back to the coast.  On Sunday, when our little town was 103 at about 12:30, I recalled Nepenthe's deck above the Big Sur cliffs, our first Ambrosia Burgers with pink lemonade.  I also remembered our dad telling us the meaning of "nepenthe," an ancient remedy for banishing grief, sorrow or trouble by inducing forgetfulness.

I have not gone to check my archives but suspect I write nearly the same post every year.  Summer's hold on me is that tenacious and I always capitulate to its fierce, mad strength.  Not to mention its ability to cloud memory.

So much to contain, all those summers, how is there room for other matters?  Once I allow myself, there are multiple reveries over the light, the clothes, the movies, family vacations, Girl Scout adventures, crafts, weekly treks to the library, our series of wading pools and, best of all, free time, its own source of forgetfulness of the homework and autumn yard chores not too far distant.  Until then, my sister and brother and I could count on at least one family trip that took us eventually to the sea and included restaurant meals.  Pancake houses, Fisherman's Wharf, small town diners, even unfamiliar grocery stores that sold much better stuff than ours did.

More than a time of year, summer is a state of mind, one to which I happily return when prompted by changes subtle or brash.  There may yet be days of our June gloom (which does not require banishing), the cooler nights, less fire-prone conditions.  I suppose each of the seasons has a trickster aspect, leading us to expect its best and frequently getting conditions far different.  While there are odes to every time of the year, I think summer has the edge on endurable.  We can talk about rock and roll another time.

Oh do slow down

Big Sur coastline.

I suggest we draw lines (analog, fountain pen lines) through everything that is irrelevant in this moment, which would include all that is not beautiful, pleasing, life-affirming, heart-warming and encouraging.  Let us take a moment or more to trust in the good outcome, to trust in the goodness of right now, no matter what.  Those of us who have attained a certain age remember there was a time when we believed we could change the world.  It is too soon to let go of that belief, whether we are the brave Hobbits who venture forth or their parents or grandparents.  While there is breath, it is never too late.

My ultimate happy place is on the rocky coast of California, looking out on fog or the sea from anywhere in Big Sur.  No one will convince me there are not places of magic on this planet and I know Big Sur is one of them.  In geography, in our own minds, so much more is possible than we allow ourselves to believe.  That so often it appears the world has gone completely sideways does not make it the whole truth. 

I can do just one thing at a time and even that I do slowly.  I've saved a seat next to me on the patio at Nepenthe.  The fog waits just offshore.  Bring your sweater.  We will watch the sun until it is out of sight.