The sad truth is that I gave up on this banana tree when it refused to stay upright before summer had even ended. A few stormy days had it knocked down to the ground, its massive leaves torn and frayed, and after the fifth try at keeping it proper up, I simply let it stay when it decided to go down for the last time. I’m usually better at treating my plants as if they were people, but this end of summer I just couldn’t be bothered. Maybe I am just as cold as some say I am. It would certainly match the air, and I do like to match whenever possible.
In a certain light it was my way of saying goodbye to summer, and pretending, or forcing myself to believe, that it was ok to let it go without a fight. How can one fight the end of a season anyway? It’s a guaranteed loss, even if there is nobility in fighting the good fight in the face of certain end. Truth is, I no longer have that fight in me – and the people who wrested that power from me aren’t even reading this post – so even if my words held any power or sway, they would never be heard or read – and words that fall silent… well, what is the point.
