Liminal

A couple of decades ago, liminal was a buzz word in graduate school and literary characters often found themselves in liminal spaces or, as the Oxford Dictionary defines it, “occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.” Liminal: the perfect word to describe this slippery season between summer and autumn that plays with our senses. One minute reading outside with feet propped on the brazier, and the next huddled under blankets because the thermostat reads a stubborn 16 degrees C. That’s the temperature most websites declare too cold for comfort, but the weather apps hold out a promise that things will improve. Even the trees seem undecided. A few turn gold, release their leaves through indifference, but resolute greens persist and flowers still bloom. Green are the colour of my tomatoes except for two who blushed orange as if embarrassed by their failure to capture the sun.