Mid September..already

The whole world changed here as hurricane Earl past a few weeks ago. I mean that the air changed into a cool damp maritime fall. This is off a truly balmy summer of sunny beach days and cheeks of tan. Now the clouds are different. The towering cumulus coming across the straight from the mainland with distant long streamers of moisture to the sea, as a dimming near solstice sun wanes.

So spirits wane also. The smiles are smaller now among the indigenous and the off-landers are gone back to work and school and South to what they all may think is a type of predictable life. Art Linkletter said "If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans". A good quote.

The routine here of weekends dancing with Mary are now dissonant. The fact that we are now longer together is oft talked about at the coffee shops and at the dances. This could last years in such a small place, and perhaps I love it as its smallness removes me from the real terror or at least controlled fear of having to be somewhere else.

Of course Arizona comes to mind as winter looms. The base in Yuma, my home in Glendale ...the palms, grill, the soft sound of the Spanish from dusky girls and the smell of roasting anchos at our grocery. shooting big and small guns on and off the range. Traffic in Phoenix, and hundreds of miles of open low desert on treks between Phoenix, Las Vegas, and Yuma. The inspection flights into smoggy L.A. to shake up the reservists with unit inspections.

But I have mused on these before. The smell of rain on a hot desert, the wet ironwood and mesquite drenched in the monsoon thunderstorms. A need for a real tamale.

I enjoy the respite of fishing mackerel at our wharf. We are a colourful bunch. One Korean gentleman is there almost all the time that the gates are open. I know if he is gone, no mackerel schools are in. For a trout fisherman who grew up with small streams, seeing mackerel school and rush past the wharf edge in a feeding frenzy, chasing the prey bait fish, or capelin, it is worth considering.

It is not the Kenai river nor King Salmon fresh from the arctic into a raging Alaskan river, nor is it trolling for Wahoo off Maui...but at least the Wahoo are relatives of my little mackerel that provide a distraction as I await a call to do something else. The brook trout here are relatives of my salmon friends too so its all in the family.

In many aspects I feel a sense of freedom that I have not felt since my teenage years. Perhaps that is what retirement should be. I see so many chasing shadows of unimportance that I oft feel fortunate. Then I thought who am I to decide what is worthwhile to pursue. A friend yesterday, on a trip to Charlottetown, explained to me (or asked) "Aren't goals important"?

Yes they are if they are not cast in stone. I assure you that overall any plans made will probably turn out differently that expected. Not always bad, just different.

I said once in a journal in 1979 that " I want to go through smoothly, easily, and not like a heavy iron chain drawn over rocky ground."

This I have not achieved. The chain has been dragged, often unwillingly, over harsh terrain. But the effort in pulling it, the callouses, the pains define this place.

So there we have it as the second part of September starts and summer is already past. Change is the only reality that is constant. Here, as elsewhere, people fight change and pretend time is static. The illusion of perception becomes real and few strive for a distant sunrise.

Perhaps it is fear of life, or just fear of fear. A life with fear is no life at all.

Fall

The amazing and idyllic summer ends as hurricane Earl washes away the hot dry summer this past weekend. The air has become markedly cooler and drier and the students are returning to school, the tourists from "away", returning home. I remain.

Fishing for mackerel from the city wharf has been the best it has been for years, allowing me to fill a few buckets with the tough-fighting fish-freezing many, eating fresh fillets, and giving many away to friends at the two social clubs that I am a member of here.

Many new friends have appeared in my path as my relationship with my island Mary ended a few weeks ago in a final date that was a painful and embarrassing experience. We went to the last barbecue of the season at the yacht club. The meal was excellent and reasonable. But I finally lost patience with all the pettiness and jealousy, saying my good-byes without as much elegance that I had planned. In such a small town as Summerside, everyone knows the story. There are pros and cons, everyone has an opinion. Mary and I will see each other at the dances, but our emotional weekend liaisons have ended.

Many of my new friends are associated with fishing here in town, or friends of friends from the house parties of the summer. Most are younger. I find solace in that as I am more comfortable around a younger crowd. This is probably due to my days teaching and of course, all the years with my now disappeared former young wife.

Finally I feel normal physically and mentally. The heartache retreating and energies advancing after a period of the post-relationship blues and the obscure illness that nearly killed me in February.

I have finally purchased long-needed items such as a new television, radio equipment, and fishing tackle.

There has been much effort in the restoration of my truck, the last remaining vestige of a prior life and a distant universe. At this time, I expect to remain here for the foreseeable future as there is really no other place that I would rather be. The children are very busy as the school year begins and they both continue to work. It seems to me that neither of them had anything like a real summer vacation, at least as I knew them as a teenager. It saddens me, but we all stay in touch usually via facebook, which dominates social communication in the new age. Letters are gone and telephone calls are becoming rare and short as real human contact gives way to the lol and omg of our internet age. I am glad that I also "grew-up" in that world, comfortable with electronics as is the gift of my radio hobby and business computer experience over the last 30 years.

My trusty old digital camera died as it got wet on one of my innumerable treks to the beach. I purchased a new camera which is pretty amazing. Its functions are, it seems, a kin to flying the space shuttle.

The beach, new friends, new toys has made this the most fantastic summer in many years. Not that the pangs of heartache don't surface from time to time...they do. Hopefully I can venture off island before the snow flies-perhaps a fishing trip to Cape Breton of the Eastern shore of Nova Scotia. Maybe a return to Salmon Lake lodge will seal the breach and provide solid conclusion to my married years and allow me to finally complete the biography.

The sun is brightly illuminating the Indian Head lighthouse on the point as it rises behind me here. The view from my seaside home. The harbour looks tranquil this morning. Pink mist awakening in the dawn, foggy clouds struggling lift away and the patches of blue sky revealed. Soon it will be time to go fishing, move on into the weekend of parties, dances, and cooler, wetter weather.

Thus is my life on this day in September, 2010.