A Story of Hope
And how to find it with nature
Wasn’t yesterday a sweaty sticky summer day?
Didn’t the windows need to be closed at the magic hour when the temperature outside rose above digits on your thermostat screen?
Wandering mosquito-infested walks through the ravine were refreshing — not because of the blood-sucking monsters after your blood. They were an oxygen-soaked escape into coolness, where the degrees dropped and the shade enveloped you. We’d slap our arms to sacrifice mosquitoes as our offering — as if performing a ritual of gratitude for the relief from the unyielding sun.
Once back home we’d change out of our sweat-soaked apparel into the least amount of clothing possible, just enough to cover us should a neighbor glimpse us between any split in the curtains (😳 ). Soon we’d return to moist armpits from unyielding perspiration.
Glasses of ice topped with water were the next order of business, gulped down to slake what felt like an unquenchable thirst. Sweet, merciful H20, there’s nothing like it when you’re this hot and dry. Except maybe a beer.
Next, we sat, spreading out our limbs like crows sunning themselves on a roof — except we weren’t trying to absorb the sun, this is an attempt to shed it.
Ahhhhh what a day. We exclaim over our beautiful walk and contemplate how extremes make you appreciate their opposites. While the walk was oppressively hot at times, you remember how -30 will feel in a few months and try to allow the heat to wash over you with joy. Seeking relief indoors, sucking on a popsicle that freezes my teeth reminds me of contrasting pleasures.
To seek the opposite of burning, all-encompassing, stifling heat. The intensity of temperature supercharges the emotions and after hours of enduring it, my biology screams for moderation. I become impatient to cool down.
Don’t worry, that last cherry popsicle acted like a wizard’s wand, conjuring up the subsequent season the very… next… day.
Clouds gather, leaves rustle, winds build. The air is crisp and clouds are ready to birth their rain babies on the city. It is a Friday and the weather pivots faster than Connor McDavid on a breakaway.
The NHL playoffs are happening over summer this year and the disparity of a winter sport forced into the hottest months of the year seems fitting. Months of COVID-suppression have forced the world of sports to re-think their seasons. We watch the cool ice with envy as our boys skate their hearts out to lift the spirits of their fans, to distract us from the mask protesters and insane behavior of too many world leaders.
The weather pivots and the world pivots, poised for the inevitable Second Wave. Nature takes its cue, not from us morons occupying the planet, unable to make the right decisions to curb what will be an unending virus, thanks to the multitudes who refuse to believe in science.
Rather, the seasons know it is time to move on to cooler, crisper days.
Fauna dehydrates, leaves ring out in cacophonous applause. We exit the house to set out on another walk with Dottie, our Lurcher companion. Her sighthound/scenthound genetic combination makes her particularly sensitive to visual and olfactory cues. Eying the horizon, she lifts her head to take in all the majesty the air particles deliver to her curious nostrils.
There has been no transition. Summer has come to a full stop as if Fall held out its hand and in Gandolf’s booming voice exclaimed,
“None shall pass!”
Just as quickly as COVID shut down our energetic routines and economies, Autumn has confronted us. Except unlike the novel virus we are resisting, this change is a welcome one.
The cool air calms our brains and our souls. I welcome it with open arms, ready for the next chapter hinting at turning leaves, serene evenings around a fire on the patio, the wrap of a cozy blanket around our shoulders.
Dottie is curled up close to me with affection but also to share body heat. We know Fall doesn’t last long at our latitude. Winter is coming and the brevity of this season forces us to savor it with greater intensity. Perhaps this is why we love Autumn so much on the prairies. It is fleeting but it holds a promise, an anticipation of good things coming.
Hold tight to that sensation, that state of mind. We must brace for what the balance of this year holds, but we must do so with optimism. We must do so with the hope that season’s change stirs in our hearts.
Let nature guide you to a state of mind that prepares your soul for strength and allows tranquility and reassurance some politicians are unable (or unwilling) to lead with. Take heart, our scientists endeavor to find us healing in greatest of haste.
Welcome, Autumn. Fill our souls and our minds with cool calm level heads and hope we need. Right now.
Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this essay, I hope you’ll take a few minutes to try these on for size: