Holidays in Confusion

Lately the Gulf of Mexico reminds me of a witch’s cauldron. As I watched the news coverage of Hurricane Idalia this week, I could just see the waters getting churned up. Then late at night when I listened very carefully, I could hear the faint strains of Shakespeare’s witches as they chanted: Double, double. Toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble. As I reflected on this I realized that there were forces on the loose in the Gulf that were indeed doubling our toil and trouble. Then I realized that not only is climate change messing with our weather, but it is also causing much confusion with our holidays.

Every year around this time, I pay close attention during my shopping trips, looking for my first sighting of Halloween decorations. Of course, I would always purchase something to add to my already busy collection. My personal rule is that once Halloween decorations hit the store shelves, then summer is all but over, and it is time to decorate with my favorite witches and skeletons. This usually happens around the month of September.

I had my annual first sighting this year, but it happened in July. It was over 100 degrees outside. Yes, I made my first yearly Halloween purchase, but something felt off. I sweated entirely too much taking my new purchase out to my car and then when I arrived at home, it was too hot to start decorating outside. I know that last statement to be a fact, because I tried it and it didn’t work.

Now it is the last of August and turning into September. The situation gets worse. The last time I went shopping, I not only found more Halloween decorations (which I didn’t mind, because I can always use more!) I also found a display of Christmas decorations. Please let me repeat this, because this is newsworthy and worth repeating. In AUGUST, stores were displaying both Halloween and Christmas decorations right next to each other. It wasn’t like one holiday was over and items were marked half off. No, this was more like Santa’s sleigh was going to be pulled by both reindeer and goblins! Santa’s elves will walk around in the dark and try to scare children while skeletons will help to create exciting toys for the good little girls and boys.

The holidays are now all higgledy-piggledy. Can I blame this on climate change? There seems to be a direct correlation here. Maybe if I contact Neil deGrasse Tyson he can explain this with better scientific reasoning. I’ll let you know what he says. In the meantime, please only purchase Halloween supplies in September and Christmas decorations in November. A little decorum if you please.

When Old Becomes New

A delightful discovery this morning: three new trees planted along my daily walk path.

The sight stopped me in a near-stumble. I jerked my head to the left, staring before snapping this once-in-a-walk image.

Questions pounded my brain walls:

How long have these oak sprouts been here?

What made our tree police suddenly shout “Green!”

Did last week’s U.N. climate change report finally awaken city fathers?

Perhaps you remember the breath-stopping removal of four trees from this same walkway last summer.

A mid-July lightning bolt had zapped one oak tree, splitting it in two. It was a beautiful, natural strike. Destructive natural art remained. Tears followed.

Suburbia struck back in a wood frenzy, removing four trees in response to Mother Nature’s single zap. Where I live, we don’t remove damage. We play Whack A Tree. To ensure nothing stands in weather’s way, we haul in the Big Equipment and ground down the leftovers - all the way down to nuttin’, baby. 

In my new man-made walking ground, I sought, and found, a gift: Starfish Bevo. See it/him? A horizontal figure on the right up there. Oak ground bits resembling quinoa. My new morning breakfast?

For weeks, I checked my little tree star every day. Then New Normal became Sidewalk Path. I forgot Loss.

Imagine my glee this morning as I stumbled onto this New New Normal.

Upon looking closer, my smile broadened.

Starfish Quinoa has a buddy. Shade.

Mornings like this urge me outdoors every dawn. Five mile walk, six a‑m start. 2372 walks since April, 2012. Yes, I counted.

I walk daily to remain healthy.

Today reminded me of a second reason: to see. When I opened my eyes — really opened them — I saw new life and second chances. 

Right around the corner surrounding a trifecta of trees.

How personal, meaningful can a little daily walk become?