Notes on transition
The leaves on the trees here are still green. The mountains are still green. But they wont be for much longer.I ARRIVED IN Nelson almost one year ago. It was early October, and when I flew here from Vancouver I crossed over a sea of reds, oranges, and yellows in the mountains. These same colours surrounded the town on all sides, fallen leaves scattered the sidewalks and streets. It was one of the most beautiful things Id ever seen.
MONET, Claude: "Veduta di Argenteuil con la neve", 1874 - Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, Kansas City, USA
I returned Sunday from what could have been the last camping trip of the season. The evenings were chilly. Beanies, long johns, and jackets were required around the campfire. Warm sleeping bags and cuddling bodies in the tent necessary to resist the cold air. Then the heavy rains came last night. Windows were shut, fans turned off, sweatpants worn to bed. The seasons are changing.
I often feel like that lone person in those time-lapse videos in which I am still in the middle of the frame while everything else zooms around me.I wouldnt have it any other way I love living through four seasons. Change for me is necessary. But it can also be hard to let go. Let go of the summer, of the ease, of the playfulness. While my life continues unchanging, others around me are going through their own transitions. Close friends moving, students returning to school, teachers back to work. I often feel like that lone person in those time-lapse videos in which I am still in the middle of the frame while everything else zooms around me.
Transitions are inherently full of turmoil. There is excitement, anxiety, nervousness, confusion. Feelings of being lost. Searching. Maybe finding. Maybe not. But one thing is certain, on the other side of it is exactly where I should be.