October 16, 2024
On this past Monday, we here
in Canada celebrated our Thanksgiving holiday. Our version of this celebration always
takes place on the second Monday of October—a month and a half earlier than Thanksgiving
is celebrated in the country to the south of us. The reason for the difference
is simple; Thanksgiving is at its core a harvest festival, and our harvest
comes earlier.
Here in the Ashbury household,
especially over the last decade or so, we tend to go to our second daughter’s home
for the feast. The reason for that is also simple, and supremely logical: she
makes the best turkey in the family. Hers is so good that I no longer
even consider cooking a turkey.
The most important part of this
holiday for me is the same as it is with every holiday, and that’s the time spent
with family, and with loved ones.
Monday was a very good time
for us all. I’m grateful.
Our walnut tree is now
practically bare, which means the maples that grow so beautifully on the
neighboring properties are getting ready to lose their leaves. We haven’t had a
frost, yet. But that’s really only a matter of time. The leaves tend to turn to
glorious colors only after the first good frost.
It most definitely is autumn
by the calendar and by the weather. We’ll soon have to clean out our vegetable
gardens and put away the outdoor lawn furniture. We also have an outdoor carpet
of sorts in the back yard, as well as one on our porch and that, too, will need
to be cleaned and then put away.
Each season has its own rhythms,
and its own traditions. There was a time when we would go to some of the local
fall fairs and participate in the fun outdoor activities found there. But those
were customs that we observed more for the children than for ourselves. And
truth be told, David and I would both much rather sit and read than to go out
and do outdoor activities these days. Not because we’re lazy, but because we’re
both no longer as spry as once we were. In other words, nature is taking its
course, and while we stay as active as we reasonably can for two people not-in-quite-good
shape and in our 70s, it’s nowhere near the level of activity we enjoyed in our
40s.
I loved raking leaves, cutting
the grass, and cleaning out our flower beds. I loved getting my hands in the
soil as I prepared the ground to receive a new lot of bulbs. I thrived on that.
But those activities are only memories now, and cherished ones at that.
I was very grateful to have enjoyed
a bit of a traditional spring this year, and I am hoping for a more traditional
autumn, as well. No extremes of either temperatures or precipitation. Just
sunny days, cool rather than crisp, with cool nights and a touch of frost here
and there. And, of course, for the snow to hold off for as long as possible.
With the snow comes the danger of ice, and for a woman who walks very slowly
and aided by a cane—even one that gets an ice claw in winter—the danger of
falling is very real. And falling is to be avoided at all costs.
Yes, I understand that hoping
for the weather to be a certain way is foolish. I’d be far better off to simply
choose to be happy no matter the outside conditions. And I will be with
whatever happens.
But there’s no harm in having
a preference and hoping to see that preference become reality.
Love,
Morgan
https://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
No comments:
Post a Comment