Falling Forward


There is that time of year when you wake up one morning and suddenly, it is not summer any longer.  The air takes on a softness, as if it is thinner somehow.  The sun casts longer shadows on the sidewalk, for even he has become a little bit lazy; early to bed and late to rise.  Frivolity has vanished along with the heat and humidity.  You might start to pile on the sweaters and the scarves, but your nearly blue toes cannot relinquish the flip-flops.

Not.  Just.  Yet.

However, your tootsies tell the tale.  And there is no denying:  Fall is here.

Undoubtedly, Fall is my absolute favourite season in Montreal.  And probably the weather pattern I’m most apt to miss living on the West Coast.  That autumnal blue that starkly contrasts the tinge and hue on the tips of leaves and change.  Who knew that beginnings of death and hibernation could be so startling in vibrant, spectral display?

And well, for most people, the changing of the seasons sparks a sense of introspection; a moment to shift gears and accept the passing time of popsicles and cottages, bike rides and bikinis, for say….the next 9 months of my life.

However, I, for one, am freaking out.

Change is romantic when it is only the trees and your wardrobe that make the transition.  You ride out the wave of change with a fairly safe prediction of what comes next:  AKA—6 months of freezing, frigid, F-ing cold.

I just packed up my life.  The rest of my belongings, after two consecutive moves in the last two years, takes up a full corner of my roommates’ bedroom.

She has a large room.

And somehow, I have to fit all of that stuff into this van that may or may not make it across the country.  The She-Wolf has been in the garage multiple times since my last post.  In fact, I now buy the mechanics beer and call it my “home away from home.”

But I think that adventure is not called as such if there is no challenge.  A quest requires resolve, courage, bravery, a hefty dose of the unknown and a stash of large cohones in your back pocket.  A quest would not be a quest if you were staying in the Ritz Hotel with a Centurion Card at your disposal.  However, a magical sword or a luck dragon might be a welcome addition.  No one said transition was easy.  Adventure implies that there might be some obstacles in your future.

And I’d say that’s a safe assessment considering that when the engine on my VW gets hot, it overrides the engine starter’s ability to um….start.  Which means, I either have to idle the engine every time I have to get gas, or pee, or eat.  OR—I have to use jumper cables to fire her up again.

My parents, understandably, are ready to call in the white knight of shining armor….otherwise known as the UHaul Truck.

However, I just bought a booster pack, which allows me to jump her anytime I need to without use of another car.

I’m determined.  And hopefully finding that balance between bravado and balls versus blind-faced stupidity, naiveté and/or humility.

The wind is a-changing.  The air is getting colder.  And I, for one, am shivering with terrified, nervous excitement.  I’m trying to take deep breaths, ground my feet and trust:

Everything happens for a reason.


3 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. dad
    Sep 29, 2013 @ 12:13:39

    Ahhh you trek agross the jungles of Brazil with nothing but the clothes on your back…you will do fine..



  2. risingontheroad
    Oct 04, 2013 @ 03:50:43

    I agree. Loved the read as I sit wondering where my own transition will take me!


    • Jennifer Reed
      Oct 04, 2013 @ 10:34:25

      Thanks! Where are you transitioning to? You could always join along for a Canadian road trip! 🙂


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