When Shiva and I embarked upon our rainy walk this evening this is what we saw:
All complaint of water-logged sandals seemed but a distant memory when confronted with such traumatic morbidity. It seems not weeks ago, six to be precise, when the leaves first graced us with their presence. They have already begun to wither and die. For that’s all it is, according to my PH. Leaves don’t change colour, or anything so romantic, they die. In Edmonton, they die sooner than anywhere else in the world.
There is no trickery involved in these pictures. They were taken an hour ago with my phone. I wish I could say I was joking. I wish this was some sort of disturbing prank. There is nothing funny about autumn on the eighth of August. I may never laugh again.
The photos above don’t even show the worst of it. I couldn’t bear to take any more. It is too horrifying, too gruesome. You should not be subjected to such an atrocity.
How do people live here? This is all I can ask.
The last winter was one of the harshest of my recent experience. It began in early October and didn’t cease until May. The only thing that got me through was the certainty that it would indeed end, that one day summer would arrive and I could go outside again without fear of losing my fingers. I wasn’t wrong. The season did change. It would almost have been better if it hadn’t. To be so brief is almost inhumane. Winter is coming, sooner than I can bear.
All I can do is luxuriate in what is left. Go outside as much as possible before the temperatures drop to cruel levels. If you happen to live in a warmer climate below the fifty-third parallel, I implore you. Enjoy the summer! Relish its heat and its greenery! Though it may feel too warm to bear at times, remember me and be grateful.