Remembering

Autumn seemed to last a long time this year. Maybe because our summer was so terrible it just seemed like we went from spring right into autumn. And it has been a beautiful autumn. The colours of deciduous trees – maples and alders – seemed to have a special vibrancy; the hillsides of Chilliwack and Sumas Mountains that I pass on the freeway, rusty-browns and burnt orange in previous years, were darker reds, richer yellows. Ornamental maples, cherries and plums around our neighbourhood seemed to glow from within. And held onto their leaves for so long it seemed like they too wanted the show to last

Then there are the geese, flying in long, ropey “V’s” so high their braying honking is just a whisper. And swans… swans!… so many this year, looking out of place, pristine, regal and statue-like, standing around the harvested corn-silage fields as if to say “What are classy birds like us doing out here in the sticks?…”

Amidst all this splendor, garden cleanup and harvesting continues. We had a good hoar frost last night – not a hard frost yet – but cold enough to get my attention that the kiwi’s needed harvesting. The longer they stay on the vine the sweeter they get but in years past I’ve waited too long. If they freeze hard they’re ruined. so timing is everything.

I got them in time this year. With cold, numb fingers, before the forecasted rain arrived, I picked several large buckets this morning. It’s a good crop, although they’re small. a legacy, again, I suppose, of our cool summer.

And though harvesting anything always brings a sense of satisfaction, picking fruit crops always seems bittersweet. It’s so… final – the little beauties that you’ve cared for and have watched grow…it’s all over. I like eating fruit alright, but the real joy for me is in the growing. And I guess it’s an acknowledgement that the seasons have changed.

I’ve heard a couple of interviews lately with Adam Gopnik (sp?) who is delivering the CBC Massey Lectures this year. His theme is Winter and as I understand it he is looking at winter as the season of remembrance. It is a time, post harvest, post busyness, of pulling in, resting (hah! With Christmas coming?) and, well, remembering the seasons just past. I like that. I get that. And yet, this year, I resist it.

I don’t feel ready to “rest and remember.” Not this year. I guess it has to do with feeling like a good part of this last year wasn’t really lived, at least not in the way I like to live…It wasn’t full up enough. Didn’t get to do all the things I wanted to do…

And now I’m to spend a season remembering this past year? I don’t think so. Maybe that’s why I enjoyed the long autumn: I wasn’t in a hurry to get on with the “remembering” (And did it really last as long as I’d like to remember it did?)

Hmm. OK; his past year has “been what it’s been.” So what do I want to remember? What memories of this past year will bring joy and life during the long dark winter months? The support and love of a wonderful wife and family…professional care that has likely saved my life…encouragement from a wide circle of friends and acquaintances (you really have no idea how important cards, calls, emails, comments about the blog, have been…) Yes, these are things for the comfy chair, for bundled up walks, for letter (email?) writing, for burying oneself in those longer novels… (and, ok, maybe watching a football game or two in there…)

And that rain they were forecasting this morning for later today? It’s got some snowflakes mixed in it.

Love, blessings (and thanks) Graeme