September – FROM THE SHOE

Cherie wandered out onto the porch of her family’s river cabin. She spied what looked like a great sunset.

“Mom, I’m gonna take a canoe ride, it’s golden hour.” Cherie hollered. “OK.” Her mom answered from inside.

She grabbed her camera and ran down to the pier. She slid the canoe into the water and gently got in, carefully putting her camera strap around her neck. She pushed away and headed down river. Evening had set in. The river was still, mirroring the tall redwoods which stood poised on the banks like attentive soldiers. The sun began to dip into the western sky as Cherie quietly paddled and spied the banks for birds and wildlife.

“Cherie!” a voice called out. Surprised, she turned to the voice, but couldn’t see who it was because of the sun’s glare. After she shaded her brow, she saw him on the pier. Chris Thomas! She hadn’t seen him in years and, then suddenly, she felt like a gangly, shy fourteen-year-old girl again.

“Chris, is that you?” she squinted.

“Yeah, are you going downriver?” he asked.

“Just a bit…why?”

“My boat ran out of gas…and I could use a lift?”

“Sure,” she blushed. Chris was her brother Billy’s friend who she pined over most of her high school summers. Ten years had gone by, and she still hadn’t met anyone like him.

She maneuvered the canoe to the pier and grabbed the gas can from his hand. Chris climbed in, “Thank you so much. I’m so glad I didn’t have to walk.”

“No problem.” After Chris pushed the canoe away, she tapped his shoulder with the wet oar and eyeballed the other oar. “You can help paddle.” He turned around, chuckled, and grabbed the oar. She watched him paddle from the back seat and all her adolescent emotions throbbed. Breathe, Cherie, breathe, she said to herself.

“How have you been?” Chris asked. “Billy said you finished your Master’s.”

“I did – it was a long haul and I’m happy to be done with it,” she answered.

“I’m very impressed!” He threw a smile over his shoulder.

“So…when did you get back in the country? You were in Europe, right?”

“I’ve been back for a while,” Chris spotted movement on the bank, “Hey, there’s a heron, did you want to get a shot?” He slowed the canoe while Cherie took pictures.

“This is the best time on the river.” Cherie mused. “After the summer crowds are gone, it’s so still and quiet, my favorite time.”

“Mine too.” He turned around and noticed how attractive she was.

The golden rays bathed the banks of the river as they canoed. Sparse cackles from various birds and gentle swishing of tree leaves provided a perfect summer soundtrack. “Hey, I read some of your articles, they’re good, and your photos are wonderful. I love your bird pics. What an interesting life you have!” Cherie admired.

“It’s fun, but there are more important things in life. Now, Billy has a great life, he met a nice woman and has beautiful, funny kids.” Chris continued paddling.

“You’re right, he does.” They canoed in silence, and Cherie caught sight of his boat and slid the canoe ashore. Chris got out of the canoe and Cherie handed him the gas can.

“You want me to wait around?” she offered.

“No, I think I’ll be OK.” Chris said, then something caught his eye.

“Gimme your camera,” he ordered quietly. She was confused but took it off her neck and handed it to him.

“Cherie…look at me.” He focused and took a shot. “Smile…” She smiled shyly. He took another one. He handed her the camera and said, “Take a look.” She looked at the picture, looked at him in astonishment and turned around.

The last full summer moon had risen right over the peaks of the redwood soldiers. If that wasn’t wonderful enough, the moon stood as a backdrop as a single swan perched on an old river log. The last golden rays highlighted the swan like a theater spotlight.

“Oh, wow…thank you! That is so cool,” she said breathlessly. She turned and took more photos.

Chris watched her in admiration. “Hey, I appreciate your help. I was just gonna go back to the cabin and cook some pizza. Wanna join me?”

“Uhm…sure, OK,” she answered nervously.

“We could talk more about photography and birds.” And in a French accent, he said, “See you in 30 minutes, Chéri?”

“OK, it’s a date…uhm, no, no, that’s not what I meant. I meant, yes, I’ll be there.”

“It could be a date.” He grinned and winked.

The boat’s small engine started with a purr, and he pulled the boat from the beach. “Go ahead, I’ll follow you home.” And they headed slowly upriver together.

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It’s one of my favorite Beach Boys songs. Like “In My Room”, it’s haunting melodies underscore the quintessential feeling and mood one feels while drinking in the congenial rays of a friendly sun. As autumn dawns, the warmth of the sun, when it does shine on the Northern California coast, especially in Indian Summer, is a truly invigorating, kind and soothing phenomenon. Unlike the brutal summer sun, as welcoming as it is after a cruel winter, it becomes unyielding and unbearable when it beats down into triple digits.

Today is the beginning of fall. Like my fellow fall-a-philes, we look forward to the shorter days which are bordered by crispy cold mornings and brisk evenings while filled with a warmth of the sun that beguiles the season. Autumn is “the season between summer and winter comprising in the northern hemisphere usually the months of September, October, and November or as reckoned astronomically extending from the September equinox to the December solstice,” or as we “poets” muse, “a period of maturity or incipient decline”. While the days shorten, the year faces its end and the leaves fall and die; this season, and the warmth of its days, for some reason invigorates the soul and all its creative impulses.

The colors associated with this season construe earth, nature, home, if you will, at least to me. Browns beckon us to the dust from which we were formed. Burnt yellows and oranges warm our hearts like a small fire. Deep forest evergreens envy their deciduous cousins whose deaths make such a spectacular display.

It’s been a tough couple years, years fraught with demanding work, family discord, parental decline, loved ones’ depression and, sadly, death. So much so I haven’t been able to appreciate the little rays of warmth that have shone through the storm clouds. But as I get older, I am learning to appreciate those very rays, those rays which are, indeed like photosynthesis, life giving.

My office is away from the main hub of activity where I work. I have to walk over to that office a couple times a day. Despite the cool summer we had on the Peninsula, many mornings the sun would shine in such a gentle fashion that I’d just look up and let the warmth of the sun wash over me. Like the plant converts the sun’s energy into life, so the rays from the sun convert my sadness into joy, my darkness into light and my pandemonium into peace. It’s amazing that this free resource of peace surround us daily.

I took a little trip up north for just a day. I needed to get away and stop – just stop – no activities but sitting on the pier, lounging in the river and soaking up the trees, the birds, the smells of days gone by and, of course, the gentle end-of-summer sun. I told my niece I was enjoying the ministry of nature. The difficulty of the past few years reminds me of a story from Mrs. Cowman’s devotional, Springs in the Valley.

In the deep jungles of Africa, a traveler was making a long trek. Coolies had been engaged from a tribe to carry the loads. The first day they marched rapidly and went far. The traveler had high hopes of a speedy journey. But the second morning these jungle tribesmen refused to move. For some strange reason they just sat and rested. On inquiry as to the reason for this strange behavior, the traveler was informed that they had gone too fast the first day, and that they were now waiting for their souls to catch up with their bodies.

This whirling rushing life which so many of us live does for us what that first march did for those poor jungle tribesmen. The difference: THEY KNEW what they needed to restore life’s balance; too often, WE DO NOT. –July 11

One of the reasons why I like photography is that I can capture some of these free resources that surround me whether it is a spectacular Pacifica sunset, a cool morning by some “still waters”, a plucky stellar jay, Erin’s sunflowers or the last blackberries of the summer, to name a few. All these little things, like the warmth of the sun and the colors of autumn, help me sustain my life and perspective in a big way, and allow my soul to catch up with my body.

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