Midnight Mutterings |This coming winter

||| MIDNIGHT MUTTERINGS by JACKIE BATES |||

Somehow, I’m less enthusiastic about the approaching winter than usual. Is is that the early dark and late daylight seem to affect me negatively more than in the past? Or is that my little neighborhood seems to be clearing out for the season more than usual? Certainly, that’s a factor, especially when there seem to be more deaths than usual. (More than none means more than usual.)

If you have spent any time in the company of these MM columns, you have been more than reasonably subjected to my autobiographical musings, which include my earlier life and its many geographical changes. I’ve been here on Orcas for thirty plus years now, and the next longest period of my life was when I turned five and spent the next ten years living in the same place.

All of those subsequent moves were mine by choice and I don’t have the excuse that military brats have for their many moves. I did it to myself, without a thought, and then, apparently liked it enough to continue the moves until I landed on Orcas Island. Even based here, I had some interesting travel times: Galapagos, Antarctica, Iceland, British Isles, Ireland. Canada, of course, which is just a hop over the border, but eastern Canada as well. I once took the Canadian train across the continent and back which was a great trip and stayed in touch with people I met for a few years. I used to like to go to places I could kayak, like New Zealand and Alaska, but to do that now I’d have to put quite a bit of effort into getting strong enough for such an adventure. I haven’t spent much time in Europe or the near and far East, nor have any trips taken me to Africa, which I now regret as friends just returned with videos of lions sleeping in the sun, great apes and even (and this is true): a baby elephant entering their living space and tossing the couch pillows around while the mother and adolescent (?) sibling watched from outside the dwelling. No pictures of the hyenas they reported sharing their canvas-walled bathroom searching for and finding fresh water.

I seem to have stopped traveling now. At first it was because of my daughter’s long illness that took her (and me) to Portland, Seattle and finally Bellingham, for ten years. She couldn’t be on Orcas because the rule was that she had to live within twenty minutes of a major hospital. Then there was Covid, that sent us all to our caves for the duration. I was luckier than many of my friends as I never got sick. And now, with restrictions lifted, I have friends getting sick once more.

But back to my neighborhood of Obstruction Pass: There aren’t a lot of neighbors and some of them found living on an island just too inconvenient with increasing medical needs as they age. At first they might be away for the winters, but eventually moved permanently. A few died and left empty houses their families are loath to sell but rarely use, and are therefore empty year around. I am writing this on Halloween night and there have been no trick or treat-ers. While we have a handful of lovely neighbors with children, they seem to go into Eastsound for Halloween.

In the summers I have enough neighbors with dogs to find walking companions, but most have left for the winter, if not forever, and my neighborhood walks are solitary and increasingly wet.

Besides the library and food shopping, I don’t have much I have to do in Eastsound. Visiting friends are leaving within days, not to be replaced until Spring. I get to Bellingham and occasionally Seattle for appointments, and see friends there, but it sure is getting quiet here. And damp. The other reason I go to Bellingham is to visit the cat sisters who live with my son and see his neighbors. My cat Rose took three days to remember who I am and that she’s my cat. Before that she just stared at me as if I had wandered into the house. Last week end there was an early Halloween party. I did feel a little silly walking the few blocks in my chef’s hat and apron, but got more comfortable once at the party with one host dressed as a giant squirrel and and the other with a big mushroom growing out of her head. (I still don’t know how she did that.) And the rain had halted for the afternoon. There were lots of kids in great costumes who didn’t seem to mind the party was almost a week early.

Until the last few years, I never minded the early dark. I was content on the beach and in the garden in the fading light, but I somehow don’t feel like a beach fire, for one, when a wood fire inside with a book calls. Before Covid, there were writing groups, but those continue on ZOOM, which just isn’t the same. (Though it’s great in that people who have moved away can still participate.) I haven’t rejoined Yoga classes since the pandemic and the online ones just don’t seem the same.

Well, that’s enough whining for the moment. I have to remember that I was lucky enough not to catch Covid, and I could travel again if I just found the motivation. And there are probably interesting things going on in Eastsound if I just made the effort to search them out. Mañana.