I blog a lot about beasts these days. I recently said that a bookshop before the beginning of school was a strange beast and I compared Hurricane Irene to a beast. It may be purely coincidential, but I am blogging about a beast again now. I am not sure what beast exactly.
So it is way past midnight and I am still up, which I rarely do even on a weekend. But being up at night is my natural state. Today I had a strange feeling: being slightly numb, as if I was jet lagged, and out of season. At some moments, it was hot enough to be still summer, at some others it was almost autumn. I could see around me people wearing t-short next to others wearing much heavier clothes. I was myself in between, with a warm but not heavy jumper (purchased cheap in the Lake District). In the shops we went to, they had their autumn catalogues, yet in the café where we had lunch they still had their summer menu. Dreadful service, by the way: although the food was good there was barely anything left in the kicthen as the chef had to leave suddenly (!). Nothing in the kitchen. On a bank holiday afternoon. I was not the only one "jet lagged", it seemed.
Maybe I am the strange beast, one who can feel the year coming to his time, yet not being there yet. Maybe this end of August is the strange beast, a time out of time and out of season. Or maybe I just need to sleep now. Still, I find it a fascinating if/because elusive beast.