Sometimes things don’t fit into a narrative or story. They are just sketches. This is one of those times.
Stick season. Just like everyone, we pulled the last of the garden, stacked more wood. The carrots came out of the garden bright orange, striking a rare note of color to the otherwise browns and grays. Pulled in the lawn furniture and, maybe not like everyone else, stuffed a friend’s Mini Cooper into the barn for its long winter hibernation.
Daylight savings kills the day by 4 o’clock. It will be a week or two more before the Christmas lights go up. Can’t wait for that.
So we have long, dark nights. It is always hard to get used to being inside, hunkered down, so early in the day. Fires and more food are the answer, I guess. Hibernation for us too I guess.
Hunters are out in force; their orange vests and rifles a welcome seasonal site along our small town roads. The blast of rifles in the distance signals venison on a table somewhere. I wish here.
There seems to be a lot of deer this year; I have not researched it, but last winter was probably not so bad for the herd and we’ve had more deer in our fallow field than I can remember in a long time. Hopefully no hunters will blast away behind our house. And hopefully the hunters will have a good season without the annual mishap involving ‘I thought she was a deer’ or bullets zipping through walls.
Driving through our town Saturday night we noticed some pretty quiet eateries. Okay, it is about as off-season in this resort-like town as it gets, but on any given Saturday night it should still be bustling.
Kids are busy in school; classes, music, dance, sports, play, chores, life. Fun to be a kid. I also notice kids in our town work hard, have fun, are good and do well. Maybe America isn't going down the drain after all.
As we get ready for another season, as we go through the motions, as we raise our kids, as we eat too much or drive to fast or work to much or oversleep, as we just go on with every day of our lives, this was a week to realize this life is not permanent: A good friend left us November 10 after a long and courageous battle with cancer. A great conversationalist, curious and active; an optimist, an artist, an extraordinary skier; Gary leaves behind a loving family and a wide community.
The celebration of his life this past Sunday was a truly awesome display of friendship and respect. I know him through ski patrol, but there I was talking with friends I haven’t seen since high school, friends from town, the dance academy, work. All good people, all friends with Gary. He touched us all. I am a better man for knowing him. Here is to Gary Sudol, 1957 – 2010. Rest In Peace.
David Rocchio lives, works and writes in Stowe, Vermont. (c) 2010 David Rocchio
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