On the verge of a new Autumn

Almost a year ago, I was walk­ing in the Saint-Sulpice wood­land. I was on vaca­tion. Autumn had offi­cial­ly begun, although this year, it is still in its infan­cy. As often hap­pens when things are repeat­ed, the obser­va­tion is pret­ty much the same. How­ev­er, the eye always finds some­thing to explore. I’m back on vaca­tion after a year of hard­ly going out­side. I’m dou­bly inoc­u­lat­ed, the virus is a lit­tle less scary, and the sea­sons don’t give a damn.

The woods were almost free of walk­ers. Stu­dents from Ahuntsic CEGEP were buzzing around, their on-premise class­es fin­ished, in a hur­ry to get back home, avoid­ing the qui­et mean­der­ings of the small, age­ing for­est. The paths were dry, the foliage still very green despite the first leaves fad­ing here and there.

I found the tree with the big jaw again. It looks like a mag­ic door to a world of drag­ons and witch­es. Every­thing seems to lead to this tree. Glanc­ing inside, my eyes quick­ly spot­ted an insect gild­ing its exoskele­ton. A lit­tle lat­er, at the bend in the path, a tiny snail was eat­ing its leaf while wait­ing to hiber­nate. It seems that these crea­tures can also “esti­vate,” that is to say, pro­tect them­selves from the too hot peri­ods of the sum­mer. And how long does a snail live ? The Great Inter­net tells me that it depends on the species. Any­way, I won’t know more about this one.

The good thing about the vaca­tions is that you can live your use­less­ness full time, sleep and moan and still get your pay­check even if, by devi­ous tech­nol­o­gy, a col­league ends up call­ing you because he’s real­ly stuck with a problem.

No big deal. I’m still tak­ing care of myself. The impor­tant thing is to feel the per­sis­tent and benev­o­lent swelling of the lungs, to trust our indus­tri­ous heart to push the road a lit­tle fur­ther. To wait for tomor­row to mag­i­cal­ly trans­form into a present woven in the light of one’s exis­tence. To live is above all to give thanks.