I’ve had lots of life-death circle thoughts lately.
Scary and yet it’s morbidity not mortality that is dreaded.
Also when we have animals as “pets” alongside raising, killing and gutting our own food, these thoughts and issues inevitably comes up (they’re all wonderful beings). Along with respect and gratefulness. Nothing like experiencing it first hand to develop thoughts and learn about it.
Lately I’ve pushed plants, especially wooded plants like trees up into the “it hurts when beings I know die”.
Thought of this quote from Albert Camus when I read your story:
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.
Beautiful and timely, Hank. My 96 yr old mom just passed last week, and autumn's beautifully capturing my emotions. Your essay definitely brought tears. Thank you so much.
Death is part of life, and life would not be so priceless would death not exist. Today's culture somehow avoids death, presenting it only in certain context. I am convinced we need more death, in the sense that need to learn back to look at it, live with it and talk about it. Living in a place where seasons are clearly visible, and where trees lose all their leaves for the winter, brings you one step closer to the truth. Thank you for this essay.
This one hit me hard. I had to make that decision 2 weeks ago for my dog Duncan who kept me company for 13 years. I keep second guessing myself but in my heart of hearts I knew it was time. I'm sorry about Missy. I'm not rushing into another pet either but I miss having someone in the house as I live alone.
This one hits close to home. I am somehow still sore from an over-exuberant day of surfing for my 49th birthday, two damn months ago. The waves have never hurt me like this, but "old age" hit me fast out of nowhere.
I also just pulled up my squash and beans that are still growing and flowering, but not setting fruit anymore. "Putting them down" is a different way of thinking about it, but it is 100% accurate. At least in San Diego I can start my winter crops right now too.
This story goes to the heart. I’m printing it out to keep it close and reread often. I’d love a hardcover collection of your stories, organized by the four seasons, with photos and illustrations to bring them to life. Not a cookbook, but a life storybook for cooks and non-cooks alike.
I harvested all the peppers yesterday, and a bonus of tomatillos (I didn't think there was much of anything inside those papery husks), so a batch of salsa verde is my reward! There are still some cabbages, broccoli sprouts and plenty of kale to keep harvesting for a while longer. And, to start off next year's garden, there is garlic to plant--a reminder that I will live through another winter to reap the benefits.
I'm in south central Oregon, zone 6b, though you wouldn't know it - I have a weird little microclimate, that's more like zone 5, but hotter summers. The last two mornings have been in the mid teens. My chard, even under plastic, has gotten bit pretty hard. The kale is a little better, but the herbs are toast. I grow under hoops to extend my season. I have successfully carried chard and kale through the winter all the way until I plant again. All this to say - I'm done. I have never been so busy at this time of year, processing garden produce, processing animals I grow for food. I'm tired. I'm perilously close to yanking the chard/kale, pulling plastic, and letting the beds rest. Like me. I need a rest. Death is a natural part of living... and we all have our time. I'm not in a hurry to meet my end - too much to do. But at almost 72, I know it's out there.
Good thoughts. Up here in the Pacific Northwest we are a couple weeks away from the Big Dark, AKA the aquifer replenishment season. I’m sighing with relief that harvest is about to be over; only the quince is left. I’m hunting for space in the freezer and cold pantry. Looking forward to fires in the wood stove and winter projects.
So timely
Thank you
I’ve had lots of life-death circle thoughts lately.
Scary and yet it’s morbidity not mortality that is dreaded.
Also when we have animals as “pets” alongside raising, killing and gutting our own food, these thoughts and issues inevitably comes up (they’re all wonderful beings). Along with respect and gratefulness. Nothing like experiencing it first hand to develop thoughts and learn about it.
Lately I’ve pushed plants, especially wooded plants like trees up into the “it hurts when beings I know die”.
More questions to think about.
Thought of this quote from Albert Camus when I read your story:
In the midst of hate, I found there was, within me, an invincible love.
In the midst of tears, I found there was, within me, an invincible smile.
In the midst of chaos, I found there was, within me, an invincible calm.
I realized, through it all, that…
In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer.
And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back.
Beautiful and timely, Hank. My 96 yr old mom just passed last week, and autumn's beautifully capturing my emotions. Your essay definitely brought tears. Thank you so much.
Death is part of life, and life would not be so priceless would death not exist. Today's culture somehow avoids death, presenting it only in certain context. I am convinced we need more death, in the sense that need to learn back to look at it, live with it and talk about it. Living in a place where seasons are clearly visible, and where trees lose all their leaves for the winter, brings you one step closer to the truth. Thank you for this essay.
When life gets too deep I remember I am simply walking dirt. Sounds odd, works for me. Hank, cats are my favorite beings.💚 Thank you for this post.
This one hit me hard. I had to make that decision 2 weeks ago for my dog Duncan who kept me company for 13 years. I keep second guessing myself but in my heart of hearts I knew it was time. I'm sorry about Missy. I'm not rushing into another pet either but I miss having someone in the house as I live alone.
This one hits close to home. I am somehow still sore from an over-exuberant day of surfing for my 49th birthday, two damn months ago. The waves have never hurt me like this, but "old age" hit me fast out of nowhere.
I also just pulled up my squash and beans that are still growing and flowering, but not setting fruit anymore. "Putting them down" is a different way of thinking about it, but it is 100% accurate. At least in San Diego I can start my winter crops right now too.
This story goes to the heart. I’m printing it out to keep it close and reread often. I’d love a hardcover collection of your stories, organized by the four seasons, with photos and illustrations to bring them to life. Not a cookbook, but a life storybook for cooks and non-cooks alike.
Whoops, didn't expect to be good-crying this morning.
Greetings from Yuba City! We are currently harvesting our pomegranates and the walnuts are littering the ground. Still in the low 80s...
I harvested all the peppers yesterday, and a bonus of tomatillos (I didn't think there was much of anything inside those papery husks), so a batch of salsa verde is my reward! There are still some cabbages, broccoli sprouts and plenty of kale to keep harvesting for a while longer. And, to start off next year's garden, there is garlic to plant--a reminder that I will live through another winter to reap the benefits.
I'm in south central Oregon, zone 6b, though you wouldn't know it - I have a weird little microclimate, that's more like zone 5, but hotter summers. The last two mornings have been in the mid teens. My chard, even under plastic, has gotten bit pretty hard. The kale is a little better, but the herbs are toast. I grow under hoops to extend my season. I have successfully carried chard and kale through the winter all the way until I plant again. All this to say - I'm done. I have never been so busy at this time of year, processing garden produce, processing animals I grow for food. I'm tired. I'm perilously close to yanking the chard/kale, pulling plastic, and letting the beds rest. Like me. I need a rest. Death is a natural part of living... and we all have our time. I'm not in a hurry to meet my end - too much to do. But at almost 72, I know it's out there.
Beautiful!! Particularly love the last 2 paragraphs…
Same weird weather here in WNY waiting for the hard frost to put these crazy still trying plants to sleep so we all can rest.
Bravo. What an appropriate seasonal contemplative piece. Thank you for sharing. It was evocative.
Good thoughts. Up here in the Pacific Northwest we are a couple weeks away from the Big Dark, AKA the aquifer replenishment season. I’m sighing with relief that harvest is about to be over; only the quince is left. I’m hunting for space in the freezer and cold pantry. Looking forward to fires in the wood stove and winter projects.
This is your best column ever!