With the arrival of October, the calendar of events shifts lazily. Autumn, too, arrives at a leisurely pace.
It knows we aren’t going anywhere—that we’ll have to dress more warmly, spend more time indoors eating through the stores we gathered over the summer, and venture out less into the rain and snow.
It knows that the trees, however comfortable they may feel, must shed their leaves. And how tired I am of clearing away the neighbors’ leaves—leaves from their trees that fall not onto their own property, but right onto ours, thanks to the way the branches lean. Oh well; I’ll climb onto the roof again and trim back the neighbors’ branches that grow toward our side. The neighbors couldn’t care less. They won’t pay for such services, yet they pretend to be diligent about maintaining their landscaping. So, I’ll climb up and clear my roof to prevent rot—after all, I’m the one who would have to pay for the repairs if it were damaged.
Then I’ll gather everything lying on my property, rake the leaves into special bags, and set them out for trash collection. I’ll free my plants and ready them for winter: pruning the dead growth, mounding soil around the three fruit trees, and bundling the raspberry bushes in preparation for the coming snow.
And then I’ll head north. I’ll welcome the first day of October in the truly wild northern reaches of Ontario—amidst waterfalls, dense forests, winding trails, and rocky cliffs.
I plan to write a story about this and enter it into a competition; the call for submissions is already out, and the deadline is approaching. I’ll paint another autumn landscape based on this, and next time you’ll see it in person.
After that, I’ll celebrate all the family birthdays that fall during this period; I have a wonderful, large family with many birthdays around this time.
Then, I’ll start taking new psychology courses. Why do I need them? I’m familiar with the Soviet-era psychology of the 1980s. A lot has changed since then, and—with retirement just a year and a half away—I need to acquire new knowledge. After all, science and the thirst for learning haven’t gone anywhere. The previous courses were just the beginning; now comes the continuation.
The next step is preparing for the workshop. Right now, I’m in a bit of a holding pattern regarding this. The responsibility weighing on me involves several key questions: will people actually be interested in this? Can I effectively present it to the organization hosting the workshop? And what will I personally gain from the event? So, I’m diving into October with plans, fresh thoughts, and a host of interesting ideas.
Meanwhile, a Blue Jay has just swooped in outside my window, whistling and singing its distinctive song. This bird is a symbol of the local Ontario area; I love it for its feisty personality—it’s a predator that attacks, commanding fear and respect from other birds and even squirrels. Today, it’s perched near the bird feeder. This bird has become a regular visitor; it settled in the area over a year ago and frequently comes by to forage. I also have plenty of local squirrels and a small rabbit—born this year. If the neighbors don’t eat him, he’ll go on to have offspring of his own. I hope he’s craftier than my neighbors. And, of course, there are my three male Chihuahuas who keep watch over the place.
And me, too.))
Have a nice day,my friends
