It’s the October of October right now. In the full year, October marks that moment when fruition ripens to glory, and then falls to chill ground and bare branches. Mimicking its own role in the year, mid-October is the moment when the month turns from resplendent color and fulsome bounty to reveal what’s ahead: cold, drear and a different kind of stark beauty. Fall makes us feel like the squirrels —compelled to get busy digging in, patting down the gardens, hauling in the porch plants, storing the seeds, dahlias and glads for next year. We might need to shroud a few things to fend off the first light frosts, and wrap protection around a few trees and shrubs vulnerable later to hungry deer. We are all tired of cocooning because of COVID-19, but now we come to the time to rest and restore.
I asked our local dairy woman whether the cows react to the shortening days and she said no, not really. They give milk at the same times— the farmers just have to get up in the dark and do the evening milking in the dark as well. Still, she allowed, the shorter days were a blessing because overall she works fewer hours — she’s not drawn outside to keep working as long as it’s light. It’s a kind of enforced rest that she welcomes.
Our nation seems to be at a revealing inflection point along with the seasons. The October January 6 Committee hearing recapped their summer’s work, highlighting in bold strokes the Committee’s horrifying findings about just how intentional the violence and attempted demolition of our democracy were. They shone a spotlight on the dereliction and destructive intent of our former president. Their vote to issue a subpoena was a grave statement about how very serious our situation is: that a former president, sworn to protect and uphold the Constitution, should be compelled to testify under oath.
We are balanced for a brief while in this reality, suspended as we are in mid-October, waiting for the resolution of the year.
Our California granddaughter’s class was delighted to find a large chrysalis in their school garden plot. It turns out to be a monarch and they’ve brought it into the classroom to complete its metamorphosis, an endangered species persevering, supported by the children, our leaders of tomorrow.
November 8 will tell the tale. Will the voters choose the candidates who deny the election results, deny women respect and control over their own bodies, deny the need for action on the climate crisis, and deny the need for government support of health care for all? Will they support the candidates who would like to erase Social Security and Medicare and Medicaid? Will they vote for candidates who support restricting voting rights, disenfranchising millions? Will they vote for candidates so afraid of learning that they ban books and gag teachers? Will they vote for candidates who think nothing of lying to win?
Or will they vote for a future of equity and strong democracy, leaning forward like the children gathered around the chrysalis, who watch with awe and hope as the butterfly emerges and continues its arduous journey toward survival?
Judy Wagner lives in Northfield. She encourages anyone who knows a voter in another state, especially one with an extremist candidate, to send a message urging them to vote.