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Autumn

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Autumn daze

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidI wrote a piece within these pages back at the start of the year (well – February!) on the general subject of my level of fitness – and what it took to keep things that way. I made reference to having just restarted attendance at the fitness class of which I have been a regular pretty much since we came to Canada.

Of course, not long after I committed those musings to the digital equivalent of print, the COVID-19 pandemic broke and everything was turned upside down. The fitness class moved onto Zoom and was executed in the safety of our own living rooms. When restrictions eased a little as the summer unfolded we reverted to meeting ‘in person’ at the Shoal Centre in Sidney (a community ‘hub’ for ‘seniors’) where we undertook carefully socially-distanced classes wearing masks and with extravagant but necessary health precautions.

These classes have continued since then, but on each day when the weather permits – ie when it is not raining or snowing! – we have taken to exercising in the park across the road from the centre. This is not only much safer but it is also considerably more pleasant.

I took most of these pictures between exercises during yesterday’s class.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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A few autumnal images from recent fall walks here on fabulous Vancouver Island.

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidIt is no secret that autumn is not my favourite time of year, but one cannot deny that the season brings many beautiful things and if one wants variety – then fill your boots! Sometimes it looks like this:

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid…but at others it looks like this:

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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The fourth quarter of the year starts as it always does – with the Kickass Canada Girl’s birthday. There have been times in the past when the celebrations have been really quite elaborate, involving a trip to some splendid resort or reservations at a fancy eatery (or on occasion – both!). We have many happy memories of these celebratory excursions; those to Bath and the Algarve perhaps standing out in particular.

There are other times – however – when something simple at home is the order of the day. In such pandemic-ridden times as these this latter was clearly called for. The Girl seems to have had a good time nonetheless, having seen loved ones and dear friends and having at least been wined and dined on my special homemade pizza accompanied by a rather stonking Chateauneuf du Pape.

Happy birthday to The Girl!

October also means that the first month of teaching is done. We have scampered through the opening laps – acclimatising ourselves to the pace – and we are now digging in for the long haul through to Christmas. There will doubtless be a point – as the climax of the race approaches – at which there will come a moment of truth, when we must needs push through the barrier, discover our true character and determine who the winners and runners up will be.

I think I have pushed that metaphor about as far as I reasonably can…

The nights are – naturally – drawing in (boo!) and the only remotely good thing about that is that, by the time that we are aware of it, we are more than halfway towards the shortest day. Now I know that the winter proper (as Canadians would have it) doesn’t kick in until January and February but – frankly – that is a problem for another time.

I can’t let this moment in time pass without making further reference to Bath Rugby.

Oh dear, oh dear!

Today saw the final round of matches in the Premiership, the which would determine the final four who would progress to the playoffs. Bath needed only to beat the grim Saracens to get through. Naturally, having led for much of the game they contrived to give up several scores as full-time approached – the fixture ending in a draw! This would have been enough to put Bath out, were it not for the fact that one of the other key fixtures – the Sale/Worcester clash – was postponed after Sale suffered sixteen positive COVID-19 tests! That match has been put back until Wednesday, but if further tests are also positive may not take place at all – which would mean that Bath sneak through to the finals instead.

So – three days (perhaps) on tenterhooks and then a hardly satisfactory outcome – whichever way it goes…

Oh dear!…

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“Everybody loves the sound of a train in the distance
Everybody thinks it’s true”

Paul Simon

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidIf it is a Saturday night late in November then there is a good chance that it is time once again for…

…Barney Bentall’s ‘Cariboo Express’ at the Mary Winspear!

Thus it was this weekend just passed.

Now (you the gentle reader may say to yourself) this is not the first time that these pages have contained an enthusiastic paean to the cavalcade that is the Express on its annual charity fundraising outing (in this case for the eminently worthy cause of the Sidney Food Bank). Is he mayhap running out of things on which to pontificate?

The thing is this… over the last year or so we have attended any number of musical soirées of one sort or another and, much as I have enjoyed them, I have frankly begun to wonder if I am getting too old for this sort of thing. The problem is that I am no longer very tolerant of poor sound quality or (and in particular) of sound pressure levels that are excessive. In other words – I don’t these days care for music that is too loud.

It is true that I possess a very expensive and most effective pair of ear protectors and they do work well – but they inevitably distance one somewhat from the immediacy of the occasion. Barney himself visited the Mary Winspear a while back with his original band – the ‘Legendary Hearts’ – and whilst they were a lot of fun they also were too damned loud!

But then – just when I begin to despair – along comes the ‘Cariboo Express’ again for their three night residency. Lo and behold the sound is perfect – a full but acceptable level and well mixed. The band – all eleven or twelve of them (I lose count) are having a ball and the audience is a-lovin’ it. Feet are a-tapping. Punters are aching to get up and dance. Clapping and singing along are the order of the day and everybody has a whale of a time.

In short – my faith is restored.

So – long may the Express keep running.

Photo by Andy Dawson Reid

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Wow!

Sunrises at this time of the year here on the west coast of Canada can be particularly vivid, though the weather seems to veer wildly between days on which one cannot see the closest of the Gulf Islands (a mere couple of miles away) and those on which one can see forever… or at least as far as Mount Baker (a little over seventy miles distant).

It never was much fun getting up in the dark to go to work and it still isn’t, though as I have only to do so twice a week I really shouldn’t grumble. In any case I only have these early starts for another five weeks or so and my January timetable looks a whole lot more friendly. Anyway, dragging ourselves out of bed to be faced by this sort of sunrise really does take the edge off the shock.

It is hard to remain stony faced in the light of such splendour.

 

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Image from Pixabay“The music of the far-away summer flutters around the Autumn seeking its former nest”.

Rabindranath Tagore

“Wild is the music of autumnal winds amongst the faded woods.”

William Wordsworth

Why should it be, I wonder, that I associate the autumn – the fall – with music?

Is it because – even though the summers are full of music, as we enjoy such delights as the Wednesday evening concerts in the park at Brentwood Bay – there is something particular about the long journey into winter that makes me long to be indoors, being comforted and moved – and that music is one of the greatest balms that I know.

Or perhaps I don’t really make that association at all! Perhaps I associate every season with music and it just happens to be autumn now. Or perhaps it’s just that – as they say north of the (Scottish!) border – “Ma bum’s oot the windae”!

Either way – last weekend we enjoyed once again one of the treats that the season routinely bestows upon us… the annual visit to the Mary Winspear Centre of Barney Bentall’s Caribou Express. Yes – I have waxed lyrical in the past on the subject of the delights extended by this hardened band of musical desperadoes and I have no doubt that I shall do so again.

There were eleven of them this year but the numbers matter not a jot. These boys – and girls – were at the Mary Winspear for three nights on the trot and they were enjoying not having to travel. This was their last night and they were clearly determined to enjoy it even more than the preceding two. They certainly need have had little fear that the packed crowd would do anything less than back them to the hilt… which is just what they – we! – did. The sound was great – the vibe fantastic. The joint was hopping and our hands and voices were sore the morning after!

So great to find something in these tempestuous times on which one can utterly rely.

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More autumnal images. Although it has rained a fair bit in recent weeks the weather here on the island has been surprisingly mild and balmy. Today the sun shone and it was 14 degrees C! A nice day for a walk…

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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“October is a symphony of permanence and change.”

Bonaro W. Overstreet

Images from the Fall… (double click for the full effect!)

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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Image from Pixabay“When you look for the environment, you find things that are in it: a hammer, a smartphone, some rusty nails, a shed, a spider, some grass, a tree. So there is a big difference between environmentality and Nature. Nature is definitely something you can point to: it is ‘over yonder’ in the mountains, in my DNA, under the pavement”

Timothy Morton

 

What is it with nature?!

 

On the subject of the word ‘binge’ the Cambridge Dictionary offers us:

Binge

noun uk ​informal

an occasion when an activity is done in an extreme way, especially eating, drinking, or spending money:
a drinking/eating/spending binge

‘He went on a five day drinking binge’.

The use of the term is practically always pejorative (with the exception of its employ in the course of braggadocio – usually by the young!) and by way of illustration of the weaknesses and excesses of human beings.

So – what does that have to do with nature?

I have previously waxed lyrical in these jottings concerning the abundance and vigour of the flora and fauna of the west coast of Canada. Springtime is a particularly verdant season and it can be difficult to keep up with the garden when it is putting on its annual growth spurt. Spring – however – does at least make some sort of sense to me, following hard as it does upon the heels of the fallow winter months.

Autumn is different – or so it would seem to me at any rate.

In the autumn we get fungi! In just a few days these amazing organisms burst en mass through our lawns and beds in a manner reminiscent of the creature from ‘Alien’ (though without the lawn bit of course). They are omnipresent for a short period and then wither and vanish again for another year – as though never there. Do they lurk underneath the grass the rest of the time, just waiting for the ordained moment to burst forth like a joke waiting for a punchline (that would be the one about the ‘fun-guys‘!)?

Then there are fruit flies (time flies like an arrow, etc!).  Exasperated home-owners reach for Google to plead:  “How do fruit flies come out of nowhere?“. May-flies famously live but a single day; fruit flies, sadly, can live for forty to fifty – seemingly all of it during the autumn and mostly around the recycling bin, which they can – apparently – smell from several miles away.

Worst of all in my view – however – are the spiders.

During the rest of the year – and particularly during the hot summer months – these arachnids lurk sulkily in dark corners, or scurry away furtively when stones or suchlike are turned over unexpectedly. Every now and again they stir themselves, get their arses into gear and produce a bit of desultory webbage – as though to demonstrate that they still can.

Come the autumn all that changes! The spiders are abruptly jolted into action and start weaving the most outrageous structures as though their lives depend upon it… which, of course, they may do! I know nothing of of the annual cycle of these tautologically multi-legged arthropods.

What I do know is that the creatures themselves seem to double in size and to multiply exponentially in number just as soon as the temperatures start to fall, whilst their sticky ambuscades become more and more elaborate and are thrown across ever more infeasible spaces. The end result is that it becomes nigh on impossible to mow one’s lawn (as did I yester-eve) or to cultivate one’s garden without getting a face full of spidey-silk!

Bleuch!!

What I want to know is – if binging is frowned upon in humans, why is it considered acceptable throughout the rest of nature?

 

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There is something completely magical about the way that fungi live patiently in one’s lawn – in the shape of millions of spores just waiting for the perfect conditions in which to thrive – before suddenly bursting forth for the purposes of reproduction. They have a relatively narrow window in which to do so once the air turns cooler and the moisture levels rise, before the first frosts persuade them once again to keep their heads well down for the duration.

Persistent little buggers, aren’t they!

Photo by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson ReidPhoto by Andy Dawson Reid

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