Columnists
My first and next favourite season
It must be July. LOML and I are sitting in the front room, watching Le Tour, drinking dark roast coffees. Some would say it’s a terrible waste of time, watching a sporting event when a beautiful summer day beckons. I say, “tradition” and “why the HE double hockey sticks” not. Why wouldn’t a person sit in the comfort of their own home, drink great coffee and watch cyclists make their way around France and Belgium? The background scenery is extraordinary, some of it we’ve seen in person. The nice thing is, there are so many riders and so many teams we don’t pick favourites and don’t have any argy-bargy over “his team” versus “my team”. On top of that, we are inspired to haul our own rides out of storage and pedal our backsides along the Millennium Trail later in the day. While I’m not a person to pick one season over another as my favourite, I do feel each season has a moment, or two, when it is better than the others. Right now, summer has it in spades. I’ve got great coffee, Le Tour, LOML and today the humidex isn’t dizzyingly high. Even though we live on a fairly high-traffic road, it’s been relatively quiet this morning. Today, I feel as if summer could be my favourite season. The thing is, by the time Thursday rolls around and the next batch of weekend visitors hit the streets, I’ll be pining for the peace late autumn seems to bring. On Thursdays, during my current favourite season of the year, autumn is my favourite season.
This bright and beautiful Sunday morning the Bride-zillas are leaving the short-term holiday let across the street. For what it’s worth, this weekend’s group of young women were no match for some of the prewedding guests who’ve visited in the past. Oh, the bare bums and boobies we’ve seen from our usually peaceful little piece of paradise. I’m sure the wineries, breweries, distillers and cideries are doing a year’s worth of business in the one season. Sometimes, LOML and I find summer to be just a bit too hot and steamy, and it has nothing to do with what the meteorologist has predicted. I can only imagine what goes on in the campgrounds, at the cabins and hotels and on the beaches. Like a lot of you, summertime is our time to avoid the beaches, the food trucks, the cultural haunts, the cafés and the campgrounds. Like a lot of all y’all, we sit back and let the tourists enjoy their time in our space.
So, here we are in my favourite season, the summer of 2019. On the streets and in the stores, we rub shoulders with vacationers. Their bare parts are red from too much sun. Sometimes their flip-flops and feet are caked with beach sand. They float into the retail shops on a wave of sunscreen and bug spray. We’re surrounded by people who want to make the most of their twoweeks- with-pay. People who found out what most of us already know. The County really does rock my favourite season. It rocks with beaches and ice cream places. It rocks with restaurants and food trucks. It rocks with patios and music. It rocks with trails, flora and fauna. It rocks with retail and resale. The County rolls and rocks with its history and heritage. Big city magazine and newspaper writers extol the virtues of the bounty of the County from every possible angle. Bloggers blog. Reviewers review. Oh yeah
I’ve learned, after forty-seven years, to sit back and relax. I’ve learned to enjoy my favourite season with the visitors, instead of in spite of them. I’ve learned to soak it all up because my next favourite season shows up far too quickly once my current favourite season is done.
FYI, “humidex” is a Canadian thing, doncha know!
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