If all goes as planned, my daughter, Angie, and I are planning another trip to New Brunswick this Sunday. I am so looking forward to seeing my grandson, Nolan, again!
We plan to leave early Sunday and stop to visit a geological museum along the way. We’ll stay overnight and leave for home again Monday morning. It should be a much more relaxed trip, not having to do a quick turn-around.
I’m sure the baby has changed much in two weeks, so I hope to get some updated photos. The drive (though insufferably long) should be beautiful. They’ve had some frost in NB and the leaves should be starting to turn.
As the days shorten and the shadows lengthen, I am frequently struck by what I call the urge to “nest”. It happens every fall. That urge to bake pies and make preserves…to have a pot of something savory simmering on the stove and fresh bread or biscuits in the oven…to start or finish a quilt.
Autumn is a season of preparation, in my mind at least. And I wonder if that doesn’t come from some centuries-old place in which people had to do such things just to survive the coming winter — from some internal, primordial clock that signalled that it was time to ready for cold weather.
Here in Nova Scotia, cooler weather has settled upon us prematurely — we’re into the second week of below seasonal, daytime temperatures and several frost warnings at night. The crickets’ chirps have slowed and some of the maples display hints of crimson at their leaf tips. It’s the sort of weather that conjures images of hot chocolate, warm sweaters, and books in front of fireplaces.
September is a fickle month and probably holds some surprises for us yet, but the urge to “nest” is still as strong.
Image © Judy Gibson