November song

As I drove home earlier today in my little Cadillac SUV crossover from the Village of Appleton to the Town of Almonte I abruptly caught myself imagining I were in Disneyland, so affecting was the scene before my eyes.

A crossover, crossover SUV, or crossover utility vehicle (CUV) is a type of automobile with an increased ride height that is built on unibody chassis construction shared with passenger cars, as opposed to traditional sport utility vehicles (SUV), which are built on a body-on-frame chassis construction similar to pickup trucks.

I was driving without purpose along the empty county road into a light and glistening snow squall.  The frivolous crystals of wispy white snow evaporated and disappeared from sight as they fell from the sky above towards the ground below. It was a flurry of activity which marked the beginning of November and the start of what I expect will be winter and its predictable snow.

It no doubt seems strange for me to acknowledge what many others know to be the case.  For us however the muscle of the seasons is a tissue we’re in the process of strengthening. As we do so we reinvigorate what we’ve been unaccustomed to witness for the past decade when we dipped into the subtropical climates of the United States of America and escaped the traditional change of seasons in Canada. Traveling through the Shenandoah Valley in late October or early November was more akin to autumn or springtime than to winter. The liquidation and disintegration of change became increasingly evident as we proceeded southerly until at last the aspect was one inalterable impression, not unpleasant of course but certainly not northerly.

The Shenandoah Valley is a geographic valley and cultural region of western Virginia and the Eastern Panhandle of West Virginia in the United States. The valley is bounded to the east by the Blue Ridge Mountains, to the west by the eastern front of the Ridge-and-Valley Appalachians (excluding Massanutten Mountain), to the north by the Potomac River and to the south by the James River. The cultural region covers a larger area that includes all of the valley plus the Virginia highlands to the west, and the Roanoke Valley to the south. It is physiographically located within the Ridge and Valley province and is a portion of the Great Appalachian Valley.

The one occasion I recall while traveling through the Appalachian mountain range when we encountered a snow squall, it was predominantly what I would simply have called wet snow without the feathery buoyancy of today’s drama. Today’s puffs of vaporous flakes magically vanished from view as I drove into the wintry display; there was no residue of moisture upon the hood of the car as there had been while undulating upon the highway through the mountains.

And now once again the prospect has changed. The autumn of my years has brought me to this. The view from my desk upon the random agricultural fields and the river beyond (all of which I never tire extolling) proves itself a never-ending resource of defining inspiration. It is this substantive vision – to which I daily and repeatedly awake unwittingly – which inspires us to remain in situ. I trust the calculated inertia of my partner whose decision on these matters is unfailingly accurate and prescient. We’ve surpassed the pinnacle of our prolonged departures from home. Instead we have animated what for the upcoming two years are selective, short indulgences designed to animate our burgeoning inner and external transitions and compasses. Nor is the conversion merely characterized as aging; rather the direction is in my opinion necessary refinement to accommodate the growing home-body humours and the potting of exactitude. I have always regarded precision as synonymous with bespoke and quality. Balancing one’s remaining time with one’s projected alliances is perhaps a way of interpreting the posture; however I see it as nothing more or less than evolution, a degeneration towards simplicity and authenticity.

It was likewise today that the fluff of the snow squall disappeared from my vision. It heralded a new avenue of exploration. The gaze and horizon before me were undeniably inviting and restorative. Parenthetically we have activated several indulgences which are peculiar to the proposition of settlement and encampment. The colonization of our new apartment building is I have no doubt as much an adventure for others as it is for us. It would in my opinion be indiscrete to uproot oneself from this particular boulevard. Each day I encounter yet another reason for admiring what is before our eyes. And I have yet to see the drifts of bluish snow on the withering cornstalks or the slivers of ice upon the slow-moving river. From our hibernation may also percolate unforeseen advantages such as only proliferate among the decomposing and fermenting autumn leaves and the grounded apples which intoxicate the hornets and bees.