The Barometer
Summer's harvest
Is there anything more bittersweet than the September long weekend?
The lakes are warm, that is true, and there are homegrown tomatoes to eat (a completely different taste sensation than store-bought), and backyard apples are ready—to give to the teacher. Worst of all, they call it Labour Day, a not-so-subtle reminder it’s back to work, back to school, back to the RW: the Real World of alarm clocks and due dates and socks.
I used to imagine it was not because my feet had grown over the summer that I needed new runners for school, but that they had become marvelously flat and enormously wide, like the barefoot people in a National Geographic special. Surely 60 summery, shoe-free days could do that, and make me as sure-footed and close to the earth as an Australian outback hunter.
And then, in my prairie childhood, were the Suppers. I didn’t know if they were called ‘Fall Suppers’ or ‘Fowl Suppers’ because they started soon after school did and there was, in addition to ham and sausages, a bird in a starring role: a chicken, goose or turkey. How these suppers worked is you would find out where the next supper is—in which nearby town—then you all go there.
The Fall Fair season here in the Northwest starts with the Nechako Valley Exhibition August 20-22 in Vanderhoof, followed closely by the Bulkley Valley Exhibition in Smithers, in the most tender spot of late summer, the last week of freedom, August 26-29.
In Telkwa, they don’t roast a bird, they barbecue some beef, toss some horseshoes and demolish some cars between September 4 and 6.
Meanwhile, in Kitimat, they focus on fish, with a major Derby that draws anglers from far and near to win major cash prizes. Hey, maybe baby needs a new pair of shoes.
In a cruel manner, the Summer Harvest at Huble Homestead (Prince George) advertises their September 5-6 food fest as their “last big event of the summer!”
Even though I get hungry just thinking about their special lunch menus and vegetables from the Huble garden, I just can’t accept their claim that this two-day event will actually ease my way into fall.
I mean, the next day the Francois Lake Ferry restarts its school schedule, with sailings at 8 am and 3:45! That is so depressing—or, depending on your point of view, so revitalizing. I know people who claim, “Autumn is my favourite time of year!” Notice how those types say Autumn rather than Fall, as in falling leaves, falling temperatures, fallen arches, dashed hopes and dark days to come.
The end of fertile days, the loss of peak freshness, may mean to them the joy of back-to-business, the schoolchildren tucked neatly in their desks, the duly-appointed executives at their assigned posts. Who knows?
Finally, at the end-time, the last days of September are marked by the closing of the Houston Farmers’ Market, September 30, 2010.
If you are fortunate, you had the opportunity to travel between Houston and Smithers, to go up to Hungry Hill before you went down again, in the lush green of deepest summer, in June, July or August, or even earliest September. If so, you would have experienced the broad sunlit uplands decorated with happy cows and views so devastatingly beautiful it is hard to keep your eyes on the road.
Then you can count yourself a lucky person, for the cold harsh winds of winter come early to the highlands, and so you have glimpsed the briefest and most beautiful of times there, or in the valleys below.
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