Thursday, September 10, 2020

Canned Peaches

Written by  Rosa Caswell

How are we going to get through this season? Will schools close again? Will the employment rate go up soon? Will I unknowingly give a sweet elderly person COVID-19? Who will be the next president of the US? And since when was the beginning of September so cold? I have no answers to my many anxiety induced questions. What can I say, I think we can all agree that things have gotten a bit tipsy turvy in 2020.

Therefore, I went a little tipsy turvy myself and looked to my past self to seek a little wisdom. A blog I had written in the fall of last year recalled to me a time when unknowns did not govern my every thought. Turns out, I very much needed 2019 me. 2019 me was very calm and helpful. And so it is with frayed hair and my 3rd large coffee of the day that I offer you “Canned Peaches”, a remembrance of days when predictability was a thing and I had the brain space to serenely ponder and make lovely descriptions. Grab a blanket, snuggle up to your hot beverage and enjoy a 2019 reflection on the graces of Autumn...

Canned Peaches, August 2019 (by Rosa Caswell)

It has finished. The rush of spring and the frenzy of summer has worn itself out, and so have we. Like children who happily slumber in the back of the family van after a thrilling day at the lake, so do we sit sleepily in our sweaters, sipping tea, thankful and at peace. Thankful for the grace of family BBQs and serene forest walks, for sunny long days and cool swimming pools, for the smell of sun in children’s hair and the beauty of all the little flowers that have come and gone--and maybe even for the mosquitos. The pace of summer, both frantic and slow, has given us space to stretch our legs and let the tension in our shoulders go: the tension of bracing against winter’s harsh breath.

It’s coming again, the deep cold, but not yet. Nature has given us autumn to prepare for the chilly months ahead. Indeed, if you and I lived not so long ago we might be looking at our pantry shelves with great pride at all the mason jars stacked neatly from corner to corner, and sigh with contentment and assurance when thinking of the days to come. Assurance and contentment, these are autumn’s gifts as well.

So what causes you to sigh happily, I wonder? What grew in your garden, or better yet, in your heart? What will uplift you through the hush of the dark winter?  And just as grandma’s lines of canned peaches gave joy to all she loved, what warmth has been given you to carry to your neighbors in the weeks to come?

I was given hope. A hope that was born and nourished in the lovely days of summer, like the smallest of wild flowers, both bright and incorrigible. The hope that people are so good. The hope that you and I, though we may find darkness in our souls, will still find a way to light the darkness. This year, summer and her many blossoms helped me remember the beauty of the human spirit. I have taken these little flowers of hope and pressed them in the pages of my heart. There they will stay, though winter rages on, to be kept safe and then given… to every soul who steps past my door.

Read 174 times Last modified on Friday, September 11, 2020