Bernard Heydorn

How many of you noted the arrival of fall on September 23? The days are noticeably shorter and the nights cooler. Around our house, the humming birds have abandoned the bird feeder and the Baltimore orioles are no more to be seen. In a couple of months I too will disappear from the scene, joining the trek of northerners trying to escape winter.
The beach at Long Point on the shores of Lake Erie, close to where we live, is deserted, the cottages boarded up securely to withstand the winter blasts. The gulls gather to feed and fatten up before they take flight across the lake to warmer climes. The lake has rumblings of angry waves, sighing and moaning with the wind as the temperature drops and it gives up its summer heat.
There are flyovers of Canada geese, honking and flapping, flying in V formation. In our yard, the leaves are turning into glorious colour and falling to the ground. The flowers are wilting except for the resistant red rose. The vegetables in the patch have put up a brave fight, lead by the okras. They too are dying even while they attempt to flower and bear fruit. However, I still manage to pick some squash on the ground, hidden in the long grass, Swiss chard, tomatoes, rhubarb, cantaloupes, green pepper and a few beans. The grass does not seem to grow as fast on the lawn and the weeds are beating a retreat.
I am busier than ever at home, inside and out. The leaves are to be raked, mulched or composted – far too many to put into bags. The hammock and summer furniture need to be stacked and put away - the flower beds and vegetable patch to be cleared. The trees and shrubs need pruning, the bowling green and mini golf course to be fertilized and seeded. The two lawn tractors that I have will soon be working overtime, mulching layers of leaves, and they call this lifestyle retirement!
Fred Eaglesmith's sad song "Summer is Over" and Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" tug at my heart. Fall is harvest time with many fruits, vegetables and grains ripe and ready to be picked. Pumpkins are plentiful, lying in the fields and farms of Norfolk County. They will play an important part in Thanksgiving and Halloween in the month of October. The apple orchards are also bountiful.
Autumn for me is a season of reflection and mellowness, even sadness. I get sleepy in the middle of the day when skies turn grey. When the rain falls and the sun goes down, I turn to meditation and moodiness.
Fall to me is symbolic of our mortality. The changes, physically and mentally, the death of summer, the aging process and slowing down take their toll. I look around and see faces of family and friends missing – some folks have checked out.
On the other hand, many painters and artists love autumn. They are hypnotized by the splendour and the colour. The paint flows from their brushes in this season. County Fairs such as the Norfolk County Fair abound in the Fall.
However September puts the chill in me, October closes my door, and when the gales of November come calling, my caravan is packed and ready to roll.
We take our memories with us wherever we go. "I see your lips, the summer kisses, the sun burnt hands I used to hold" sings Nat King Cole in Autumn Leaves. We who grew up in the Caribbean still have a treasury of warm memories to help us through long winters and dark days. If the creeks don't rise and the sun still shines, I'll be talking to you.

 

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