Going, Going . . .

. . . and nearly gone! Summer has left gracefully several times. Cooler days and even cooler nights, shorter days (sigh), and a little bit of gentle rain. Each time it has returned. Because I tend to forget the weather from year to year (with some memorable exceptions for snow and/or ice storms or hurricanes) I am never sure what is usual or unusual. I tend to take it as it comes -- or goes.

This time it is leaving with a graceless exit! It is stomping, not slinking, off stage right! No more lovely trees just beginning their colorful change. Now it's bare limbs nearly everywhere. The beautiful yellow blanket of downed leaves the parks were cuddling under has become rough dull brown. The gorgeous roses which greeted me each Monday morning on my walk along the Vlatava to class are gone -- at least not forever. Even the fanciful enormous pink plastic crocodile and huge red plastic dogs which invited visitors to the Contemporary Art Museum on Kampa Island have gone inside for the winter. I'm curious how many more times I'll hear the water in the fountain which, with its wonderful statues of medieval folk, graces the center of one of my favorite parks.

Fall is certainly here this week. And it would be difficult to imagine anything resembling summer returning for many months. It started when I realized I was really really cold Friday as I walked to yet another tram. I was wearing a sweater and my "new" in-between coat (second hand stores are great, obviously a very normal part of the economy with terrific choices, really good quality -- at least where I've shopped, and certainly a lot of locations!) and I was still miserable. With November arriving this week, the chill is appropriate. It's the knowledge of that thermometer going even further down that is a bit disheartening.

Our clocks have even taken their annual "fall back" position. That means it is so dark (since we're also having cold rain and heavy clouds all this week) at 7:30 (19:30) in the evening that I feel it must be time for bed. And the dull gray extra hour of morning light is certainly slim compensation. It's here - - we're well on our way to winter. And as usual I really don't know what to expect.

What a treat, however, to see the changes in all my accustomed travels. The light really does shine differently on the building facades, often revealing a new-to-me mosaic because of the slight glimmer, or even some unnoticed grime on the ever-watching statues. Summer light had made it look like artistic shading; winter gray strips away the illusion.

I enjoy seeing the "new" wardrobes on the trams and metros. It's interesting to watch older women like myself with their only slightly worn classically styled coats, even very dressy skirted suits, which I know have been around for many winters. Of course the quality is the first hint -- this is no fad item. But also the cut, color, and decoration. These are women who have watched the changes of seasons, of governments, of Prague, and even themselves. I take many lessons from the images they bring to my quietness. It is with such regret I have to answer "nerozumim cesky" (I don't understand Czech) or "mluvim jen anglicky" (I speak only English) when someone speaks to me in Czech. I'd love to know more of their stories, how they've made the peace which is apparent on their faces with their lives.

And speaking of Czech, I am once again in a Czech class. StJ provides Czech lessons an hour a week for teachers. My class lasted only two weeks (for me) when I first arrived because I was assigned to teach at that time. Happily assigned, I will add. It is a group I've remained with and enjoyed since then, even during the summer months. Now with the new term another class has been started. There are 12 or more of us in there, several of whom are also my friends. Here's the catch: we're all so busy there wasn't a single time during the week the class could convene. So - - we meet for four hours on Saturday morning once a month. That's a really tough way to learn a language! Especially since my schedule leaves me tired and not at all ready to study Czech in the evening. Our teacher is just wonderful. Intimidating, also -- she speaks seven languages and teaches wonderfully well. So I'm learning two things, actually. Czech and teaching techniques. Must admit the one is much more difficult than the other!

Things have changed here at the laundromat also. A couple of my favorite assistants have left for other jobs, there are fewer tourists, it seems, and there are three new monitors for the computers! Writing to you looks different!

It's time to fold and leave. Fall in Prague is every bit as wonderful as spring and summer, just different. I'm so blessed to be watching and participating in the changes. Enjoy them with me. . .