Damon Falke is an American writer living in northern Norway. His work includes, among others, By Way of Passing, Now at the Uncertain Hour, and Laura, or Scenes from a Common World. Much of his work considers relationships between memory and the present, particularly as they are expressed through objects and landscapes. In addition to writing, he has lived and traveled broadly, both as a traveler and a sportsman. Greece, Nepal, Tibet, Tasmania, Hungry, New Zealand, Slovenia, East Texas and the American West have, in different ways, touched his work. Concepts of place and places themselves are essential to his writing for what they speak of history and of the stories we keep. His half-acre in the far north is a good location for finding these things and for looking out of the kitchen window.
On August 12th this year, I noticed the season turning. That afternoon I went outside and saw that the flowers growing beside my shed had slumped closer to the ground. I recognized the slight yellowing of the grass and the reddening of blueberry bushes across the road. Night had returned, too, or almost returned. It was not pitch dark yet, but we are beyond the Midnight Sun and long hours of sunlight. On the 12th a different wind blew over the hills above my house. There was a hint of cooler weather, a scent of rain and decay and woodsmoke. These scents blended and hung in the air for a couple of days, reminding those of us who notice such signs that summer was over and autumn was on the way, if not already with us.