Hello old xanga.

I have not forgotten you.  Just in this time of social media, it's hard to try and update everything and ready everything at once.  But I refuse to give up on you xanga...now 7 years old a few months back.  Someone laughed the other day when I told them I still had a xanga. I just like it.  Xanga.  Good name.

So, season.

According to the dictionary, this word can either be used as a noun or a verb and slightly related; an idiom.

I would like to explore these meanings and then just give my 2 cents worth.

As a noun, season is used to describe an "area" or "period" of time in what most people refer to as weather changes and times of year or to be scientific "beginning astronomically at an equinox or solstice, but geographically at different dates in different climates" 

As a verb, season refers to cause change to another noun by adding something of some sort, be it a flavor for food, to "season" with time, that over time that person or thing has aged in some manner for better or for worse and also that "seasoning" over time can harden, ripen or cause someone/thing to grow accustom to a situation (warriors seasoned by battle).

The last is the idiom in which season is mainly referred to as a period of time, such like a noun.  If something was "for a season" or "in good season" or "in season or out of season" or "rabbit season NO duck season!"

When it comes to the origin of the word, one of the translations caught my eye :  "sowing time"

Now you can read this two ways:  A time to start sowing.....or  one sowing time.  Planting time. As if Time itself was a seed.

Now where am I going with all of this.  I really don't know, but let's push on.  I titled this blog "Another Season" as I had thought of all that had happened to me since my last post, and now I am in the autumn of my (hopefully) final school year and I myself have "aged/ripened/seasoned" with time.  So I looked up season to see what exactly what was going on with this word.  And I came to that last point I brought up:  Planting a seed of time.  Many of us look at a season in a form of passing.  We are "in" the season but we know that things will be "out" of season eventually. Such, after today, white is no longer in season ( I have personally never understood this tradition).  Others, we see season as a way of improving something: "let's season this chicken with some garlic" etc.  But what if you looked at a season, and didn't expect an outcome, rather not even know when the end of such season would be?  What I am meaning is, that right now, I should (and maybe am) be planing a seed of time in something. I should be spending time bettering myself, or growing a skill of my own or just spending time with someone. With such a seed planted....what will grow?  Shall I be famous?  Shall I be a master videographer?  Shall I be a husband?  Shall I be a mentor?  The sad and exciting part of this is:  I won't know when this time of sowing will end.  I will only know when suddenly the fruit, the crop, appears.  Then I shall be able to see whether I sowed wisely or foolishly. 

Pardon my rambles.  They make sense in my head. 

To sow time.  Sowing Time.  What is the field?  What is the crop?  Is there a way to better see such things?  Or is that where faith comes in?

All I can know is what has already passed.  I have sowed time into school.  I almost have a Masters.  I have sowed time into Fayetteville.  I have friends I would never imagine having.  I have sowed time into......unknown.

Maybe something is still growing.  I am excited to see such a crop.  

I do admit to one small fact though:  I hope one day I won't have to sow this field alone.


See You Space Cowboys...

Today, Walter Cronkite died.

As a journalist, this saddens me quite a bit.  Yes, it's true that I didn't grow up listening to him or anything, he had gone off the primary air spot in 1981, years before I was born, but he did continue side projects after.  But, growing up and re-watching the old Vietnam, Watergate, Kennedy assassination, and being taught in school about the methods and marvels of the almighty Cronkite, one tends to be impressed upon.  He was (and is) still one of the few uncorrupted newsmen of the century.  He voiced things as he saw fit and at times argued when and even fired when he considered others' journalism shabby.  He was a great man, and lived a great life, a life that at time, I can only hope to echo some part of.  I may never be the man in front of the camera, but to have the respect and experiences that he had, it would be amazing.

Rest in Peace Mr. Cronkite.....

"And that's the way it is....."