Despite my love of the tropics, I’ve come to appreciate some of the wonders that come with distancing oneself from the equator. Seasons, for example, and their undeniable sway over a city’s mood. In the weeks leading up to my departure from the United States several heat waves spread over both left and right coasts.
Easter, originally a pagan celebration of Ishtar, the Assyrian godess of fertility, came and went, and left in its wake quilts of wildflowers, velvety thighs under summer skirts, and the clefts and shadows of shirtless muscular young men playing frisbee on fields of impossibly bright green grass. Days grow longer, skirts rise higher, and hormones run wild.
I arrived to Ezeiza International Airport on two hours’ sleep at 9 a.m. Though friends prepared me for 75-degree days, with my own arrival so too landed a nasty cold front with blistery winds from the heartless Atlantic. Taxistas huddle in packs around plastic thermoses and mate. The admirable anatomies of Argentine women are hidden away behind layers of thick sweaters and long coats. And the leafy residential streets of Recoleta and Palermo Viejo alternate green, yellow, and red depending on the type of trees that line them and the amount of sun still able to squeeze through the new – and mostly empty – luxury apartment buildings.
Spring in the northern hemisphere felt like inevitable expansion, limitless possibility, effusive restlessness. And now here, Buenos Aires in Autumn, a city contracting, its hands in its pockets, wrapped in scarves and coats, and the soft golden light of four in the afternoon.
Each season – along with its mood, its flora, its angle of light – also carries its own soundtrack. Just listen to Autumn and then Winter into Spring by George Winston and you’ll realize exactly what I’m talking about.
So, for this Pecoso Podcast, I bring you “Spring Forward, Fall Back”, a mix of spring and autumn, of the US and Argentina, all under the same genre of bad-ass tunes, of course. Enjoy.