03 Oct 20XX +1
My Dear Lucilius:
Fall is in the air.
It has always been indefinable to me, that last moment when one season turns into another. Occasionally abrupt, there are years where the season is something on one day and something else on another day: the day that careens from the cool of Spring to the heat of Summer or contrariwise, the last day of Autumn that suddenly turns to Winter with a quick plunge in temperatures and precipitation that will not end until the following Spring.
But more often than not it remains a soft sort of thing, something that is more perceived than grasped: the tilt of the sun, the sound of the birds, the change in the behavior of plants and animals long before something as noticeable as the weather starts change. Perhaps it is more noticeable to me now as I have a great deal more time to pay attention to it.
The past few days (and the next few) have been consumed with scraping off the last gleanings of Pompeia Paulina’s and Statiera’s garden (now Statiera’s and Young Xerxes’) – a handy thing, to have two gardens to comb through. Pompeia Paulina and I rise, take care of our own chores, and then walk the half mile to their house to work in the garden there as well starting to prepare their house for Winter.
From what I can see, the street they live on remains maybe 75% occupied now, likely from those that have picked up and aggregated at other locations (there have no further deaths that I am aware of). Walking down the street is a somewhat eerie experience, the houses sitting empty and staring as one passes by.
In some ways you would not know that they are empty – after all, in a community which has a combination of year round residents and Summer residents, one becomes used to the fact that some houses always look unlived-in for long portions of the year. And yet there are signs – the local flora that grew up and was never cut back, small maintenance items that would have been attended to in years past but not now, the absence in many driveways of motor vehicles (that now go nowhere of course), the ubiquitous indicator of life in the United States.
There are still noises – we are not the only ones preparing for Winter of course – but it is much less than it would be for this time of year. It is more of a background sense of presence than an active sense of others nearby, the much more quiet sounds of a non-mechanical society punctuate only very occasionally by the sound of an engine performing a task that once was taken for granted.
Young Xerxes and I cut and dig and pull in this silence, passing our yield to Pompeia Paulina and Statiera, who figure out what is to be done with them. Likely today was our last day in the garden; like ours, theirs is now stripped of anything remotely resembling food, their greenhouse (like ours) holding the promise of whatever can be grown in the Spring.
A quick meal with them (black eyed peas, boiled potatoes, and greens) and then Pompeia Paulina and I make the trip back across the streets with their slight cracks that will only get worse with this Winter and the occasional sound of a bird overhead.
In some ways, Lucilius, it is the last dying silence of Autumn before Winter. The fact that it feels like it is last dying silence of a civilization that may very well not be at this level next year haunts my steps as I walk home.
Your Obedient Servant, Seneca
No aircraft or choppers vibrating the air with their movements, no background vehicle noises, nobody walking about with their face glued to a cell phone. This morn two inches of the white stuff has fallen so far, only had less than three inches for this season up to yesterday. More coming all day TB! Changing seasons indeed....:)
ReplyDeleteNylon12, as I explore this sort of thing through the story, that is what strikes me as well. Having lived for so long in an urban or semi-urban environment now, background noise is an ordinary thing. I suspect - were such a thing like this to happen - the silence would be that unanticipated thing that many would not realize until it happened, and some would be distressed about.
DeleteWe are rain on and off again this week. We were up to the mid-50's yesterday, which to me felt like a heat wave. I am apparently acclimatizing...
I like the description of everyday life. Seasonal life. It's true that when one has the time and attention, there are things to notice about the changing seasons. For animals it's intuitive, for us, it's nearly forgotten.
ReplyDeleteLeigh, One of the things the recent changes in my own life have made apparent is how much of "everyday life" becomes a product of or trapped in our circumstances; we make the daily habits and practices that help us work through our relationship with the world, then those habits and practices become first spider webs and then strings and then ropes and eventual chains that bind us. I do not wonder that it is one of the reasons that when severe change comes, many cannot deal effectively with it. It requires us to break those webs/strings/ropes/chains - not by brute force strength, but rather by choice and change and mental flexibility. And as I have found and am finding over the last two years, it is hard.
DeleteI had not thought of animals as knowing it intuitively - but your precisely right. Modern society has made us a-seasonal: we largely do the same thing no matter what the season.
Whenever I read these posts, I am reminded of my life growing up on a farm, far removed from the sounds neighbors make. It was like our own personal bubble, at least until we heard whatever vehicle approaching down our 1/8 mile long driveway.
ReplyDeleteEd - It comforts me that you wrote this. It is nice to know I am somewhat on the right track of conveying that sense and that situation. Thank you.
DeleteInteresting how Eton Rapids Joe shows us fine art about pre motorized agricultural life and how soon collapse returns to it.
ReplyDeleteBut I'm a Bitcoin millionaire! Lol internet is down. I've got lots of money in the bank! Lol banks closed and as internet is down no credit cards.
Safe water, shelter and food go from assumed to daily labor.
That old book The Alpha Strategy from the 80s seems pretty smart.
Good story friend. Glad social collapse didn't happen in your area.
Michael
Michael - ERJ is a cut above many, and some at best I can only hope to emulate when I grow up.
DeleteTo be fair, in this part of the world there is not much society to collapse (in reality; it is based on a real place). The collapse, as such, did happen to the large city to the North. But this is a region of small towns that at this point in history are largely reliant on tourism in the Summer and to a lesser extent, the Winter.
Thanks for the kind words!
What a delicious post TB, tis clear I have missed much in my absence
ReplyDeleteThank you John! If you want to catch up, you can follow the link The Collapse to the right (https://thefortyfive.blogspot.com/p/the-collapse.html). You do prompt me to catch up with linking a bit.
DeleteI'm probably overly cautious/paranoid. This is one of the safest areas in the country, western middle Tennessee. We only live 3 miles from a state highway with a store, gas stations. But we are in the hills with no close neighbors, 3 watch dogs and lots of surrounding woods, hollers and critters. Neighbors trail cams, with in 1 mile, show mutant large bob cats (1 estimated at 75lb), 1 mountain lion, 2 wolves, 1 bear, tons of coyotes. The wife and I always have a 9mm. When I take a walk with the dogs, I also take a 10/22 ruger with a holo site and 25 round magazine. A hail of easily controlled CCI Velocitors will repel anything around here, except an enraged bear (the one on the trail cam was not large).
ReplyDeleteALL THAT to say, if I were Seneca (how old is he? 65-70?), I'd have a lever gun whenever I left the house. Likelihood of needing it? Probably not much right now. But as time moves on the likelihood of dangerous things passing through or settling into the area, say within a couple miles, goes up. 99,9+% of the time, you don't need it, but when you do, nothing else is good enough.
Thanks for hauling us around in you post normal times imagiation. The story isn't diminished by my need to go forth armed.
I lived within 30-15 miles of Mexico until I moved to Tn., 10 years ago. Spent years working and recreating in the desert east of San Diego. I've known since the 80's about groups and singles of military age men coming across the border, we talked to hundreds of Border Patrol agents over the years. There are, possibly, over 40 million, not less than 20 million illegal aliens in the country. The last 4 years alone, brought in 10 million of the dregs, tens of thousands were prison clean outs. The probability of running into a problem one is there. I'm a hand to hand combat averse geezer, of 74 years. Watch yer six.
I should figure out how to fictionalize this...naw, that's your job.
T_M - Your guess of age in the right range, maybe a bit on the younger side of that, but near spot on.
DeleteYou make a good point about being "prepared". I think part of this is simply that Seneca in some ways reflects the difficulty many would have (I am including myself here) in making the adjustment to a what is effectively a post-apocalyptic world, but in slow motion. You will remember that he did "carry" when he went out wood gathering; the idea that he should start doing it in town where he has never done so has likely not occurred to him as necessary yet, just merely a "good idea".
That said, I am painfully aware that civilization is a thin crust over a great many unpleasant things. Even in our suburban neighborhood in New Home, we are now troubled by mailbox break-ins where 10 years ago we were not (it has not directly impact us, other than the destruction of a mailbox meaning we have to go to the post office to pick up the mail). It is fair to say that the world truly is more dangerous in general than it used to be.
Thanks for the kind words. They are much appreciated. It certainly gives me an outlook to think about such things in a different way.