The wind is still blowing but the rain let up, and the sky has bright moments. The light in late September is beautiful when it shines through the gray. We three friends walked my two dogs and talked about the summer, how it went, was it good? Yes of course, except for a back injury and rain, and the cherries never did ripen. The crows ate them when they were still green, and now the bears are hoping for some, but there is nothing to eat in our yard to attract them.
There are two wounded bears in town and the police let us all know their whereabouts in email and text alerts: Injured bear is hanging out in area of Mud Bay and Small Tracts intersection in the woods. Use caution…. Wounded bear in the area of Barnett, use caution…Injured bear sighted going into the bushes behind the Quick Shop. Use caution...
The other morning we saw one of them dragging her hind end on the beach in front of the house. She could barely walk. It could have been from a fight with another bear, it could have been she was shot, it could have been she was hit by a car. But whatever the cause of her lameness, it was awful to witness. The policy, according to the source of the bear alerts, is to let nature take its course. This doesn’t feel caring, or safe.
But so much of the world’s ways these days don’t seem caring or safe, do they? Lord, have mercy.
This where we snap out of it and say: Look a rainbow! Shake it off. The air is so fresh, the light is magic, and here we are. Wow. Thank you. And better yet, we are not alone. Another walker, a friend , most people around here are, asks if we saw or heard the big rock fall across the inlet the other night. We hadn’t. I was sound asleep in a warm bed after a week in a tent. We saw another friend and his dog down by the cove. There is going to be a grandchild in his world soon he said, smiling. His wife has travelled to be there for the birth. Looking at the surf roll in, he said it would be fun to kayak in it. I don’t think he was joking, but we all laughed anyway–
These days of big tides, big weather, dark and light in balance, change on the wind, elections, harvest, the last burst of dahlias, animals everywhere, us included, preparing for winter– are kind of manic. It’s the laughing and crying season.
A neighbor found an old piece of a basket on the tideline. It washed up from someplace very long ago. We thought about that. We are so new around here even if it feels some days that I have been here forever. A lifetime is a blink, isn’t it?
The firewood is in the shed, and more is stacked neatly on the porch. I still have tomatoes ripening in the greenhouse. The sump pumper truck was at the house when I returned, emptying the septic tank. Here’s something to know: it didn’t smell before it was pumped, but it sure did afterward. I ran the water in the drains, poured more into the pea traps, kept my coat on and opened all the windows and the back door wide.
The cool sweet wind is blowing through the house now, making everything fresher, the living room, the bedrooms and bathrooms, my soul. I think I’ll wait a little longer before I close it all up again and light a fire. There won’t be many more days like this.
