It was strange walking out of the yurt this morning to a
heavy fog over the farm. It felt very much like an October morning. Don’t want
to rush things now, I still have lots to do before October and it’s only a
couple of weeks away. The fog always reminds me when I was a kid walking to school in the
morning sneaking into the vineyard of some folks who lived on our road and
stealing grapes. I remember them tasting so sweet. I don’t like grape skin now
and I didn’t like grape skins then so I would leave a trail of them as I walked
the rest of the way to school.
I don’t know much about the family whose vineyard I would
raid on cool foggy fall mornings. They were very different from anything I had
ever seen. Now as adult I would think they might be Quaker, that being only
based on my extremely limited knowledge on these things. The women I remember
to be all large and robust with long dresses and bonnets and the men looked
like they just stepped out of the last century. We never blended much with our
neighbors so I really never got a chance to know them.
Across the street from that family lived an old Swedish
couple with thick accents. I delivered the newspaper to them and once a month
they would open their door to pay me for the paper and the smell of something awful
would waft out I would turn running,
gasping for air. Now I know that smell to be fermenting cabbage and mackerel
which has a pleasant smell that immediately makes my mouth water.
These are strong memories I have when I wake up to foggy
mornings. I wish I could have gotten to know my neighbors better, so I could
have worked off my grape bill.
Last night Linda and I watched a movie on her computer called The secret of Roan Inish, 1994. An American/Irish film. I loved it. and since last night I have missed the ocean greatly. I miss smelling that familiar salty air more that I realized. And with this foggy morning I am missing my home town a little and wonder if I'll ever live there again. I wonder if I'll ever wake up to the smell of the sea again.
No comments:
Post a Comment