Not generally noticeable, this eastward drift of the sun, because we're riding on the Earth as it spins around and because the sun wobbles around a bit. You'd wobble too if you got up so early every day. And don't forget the ecliptic path of the sun is coplanar with the orbit of the Earth--talk about a reason to wobble! The only reason I was aware of the drift is that I met the sun coming my way on this side of Woodcroft Parkway as I tootled toward Native Grounds.
Watching that golden wave coming to meet me, I was reminded that summer isn't long for this world and Autumn will soon be here. A lot of difference between early September and late. Already we have the cooler temperatures and coffee that tastes curiously like pumpkin pie. Soon we will have corn in the shock, whatever that is...Ms Wonder might know... and scarecrow orgies, but that's mostly in October.
It was a quiet morning in Native Grounds due to the thinner crowd of regulars, if a crowd can be thin. It's normal for the regulars to rise late on a Sunday and caffeinate themselves in the privacy of their own homes and the tourists don't normally arrive until after 10 when they're checked out of the hotel and ready to buzz off to the next destination. We do have tourists in Durham. They come for the performance arts center, the American Dance Festival, and the Fields of Mars--the god, not the planet. No doubt many are camping out for the next appearance of the Fields at the Motorco Music Hall on September 18, the last chance to hear them before the equinox.
As I was saying, Native Grounds was mindful and in the present moment when I arrived. At least the Secret Nine were mindful and they made up the majority of those present at the moment. What they were mindful of was the question of the day and the question was written on the board behind the coffee bar.
"Who was it that wanted to go home?" the Enforcer asked as I sat down.
"I know who can't go home again," I said.
"Who?" said Island Irv.
"Amelia Earhart," said the Enforcer.
"She was lost," said Sister Mary.
"Still is," said Irv.
"D. B. Cooper is still lost too," said the Enforcer.
"I think he wants it that way," said Mary.
"Who can't go home again?" asked Irv.
"You," I said.
"Why?"
"Well, for one thing," I said trying to quickly come up with something quirky, "every time Brahman blinks, the world is destroyed and recreated so the home you left doesn't exist anymore."
"Oh, no!" said the Enforcer, "Somebody stop him quick, please!"
"Brahman?"
"No, the Genome. Don't let him get started."
"Greta Garbo?" said Pickles.
"Nah, she wanted to be alone," said Mary, "not home."
"If you ask me, everybody should stay home," said the Enforcer, "especially people who take extended vacations."
"Travel is good for the soul," said Irv. "Expands the mind."
"What's the mind got to do with the soul?" said the Enforcer, "Besides, all that travel burns fossils and that adds to global warming."
"What I want to know," said Pickles, "is why do so many holidays fall on Monday? Does it just work out that way or is it a conspiracy?"
"Thanksgiving isn't on a Monday," said Mary. "I know cause I cook it every year."
"Christmas and Easter don't come on a Monday," said the Enforcer and then added, "Well, I remember Christmas coming on Monday once but it threw everything out of whack and they don't do it any more."
And so you can clearly see, dear reader, that the one thing you can always depend on at Native Grounds Coffee and Gelato Bar is a dose of sparkling conversation, and so it continued for the rest of the hour. I left before the bagel throwing began.