And then, seemingly all of a sudden, but of course it couldn’t have been, the crickets replaced the birds. Our cedar amphitheatres like bowls for their evening song, while the birds took their tour south.
The heart of the Creek overflowing with people until it’s not: record sales days followed by a quiet that might be eerie, if it weren’t a refreshing reprieve. Warm air and dry skies still beckon us out, presenting as if they’ll go on forever. For a moment, we believe it.
Long walks along Beach Ave feel unchanged, though the signs are there in every bare blackberry bramble. Do I try to pick what’s left, or accept that it’s gone? Children play on lawns as though nothing has changed. Teachers can no longer pretend.
Baskets of apples appear along the roadside, the collective collecting what the bears will otherwise eat. “Get it before the bears do!” A wayward glance at the thermostat and the question asks itself: are we there yet?
Blink, September appeared.
Star gazing and beach lazing: Summer with her wild and wayward way; dances off into the distance as the formality of fall returns. Families with children swept into packed lunches and wake-up times, then a familiar, steadying routine. Screened doors with their barely-there barrier are replaced by the pragmatic protection of glass.
The last day of August we watched the sky glow, counting the space between the flash and the clap, each holding memories of lightning storms past.
The first evening sunset of September glows a deep gold. Soon, the moon rises, also a deep, deep gold –– sun and moon similar but not the same, like siblings who share a name. The days are shorter now.
Look back, and it’s gone. Does it always feel this fast? Eight nice weeks, I was told when I moved here. Eight weeks of summer, concentrated by the contrast between the dark and the light. Until fall arrives, like an exhale. And you look back, not sure if you want it to end –– but you don’t really get to decide.
And so the Creek exhales too, shifting from wide-open ease to steady September. Shrinking days threaten to keep us away from one another, back to our own four walls, but September events are an open invitation to keep gathering. And here they are, already waiting:
Turn off the talking, turn up the music, and MOVE together through ecstatic dance and sound under the stars. Sept.13, 7 to 11:30 p.m., Roberts Creek Pier.
Join a special screening of Trouble in the Headwaters, a powerful 25-minute documentary exploring the connection between clear-cut logging and catastrophic flooding. Film screening and panel discussion, Sept. 17, Roberts Creek Hall. This event is part of a grassroots province-wide film tour bringing communities together to defend watersheds and primary forests across BC.
Dance and groove to Ska & Reggae at the Legion on Sept. 27. Brehdren brings 11-piece theatrics, Mivule brings Afro-Reggae grooves — together, they’ll keep the Creek moving deep into September.
My nose is a little cold tonight, a shawl around my shoulders, as I return home, guided by the golden moon.
