By Neal Lemery
I’m one to change the calendar. Midwinter never seemed the right time to start off a new year and declare new goals and aspirations. The gray and cool weather of a January day just hasn’t seemed like a time for new beginnings.
If I was the Caesar Augustus of these times, I’d start a new calendar the first of September. The weather usually signals a change from the hot, sunny days of August to the start of some foggy mornings and maybe even a little drizzle. Leaves start to turn, and there’s a noticeable coolness in the evenings. Most of the tourists are finally headed home. Kids are back in school and vacations are ending. People are going back to work and catching up on their neglected late summer chores.
Our “to do” lists are calling and we are flipping over the calendar on our refrigerators, even starting to think of preparing for the holidays.
Like most of us, I’m ready for a change, for something new. I like joining the kids with some new clothes, and maybe some new books and writing tools. School kids shouldn’t have all the fun with new “school supplies” and new routines. I’m likely missing the enthusiasm of a new classroom, a new teacher, and new things to learn.
Summer finds me getting caught up into the “summer doldrums”. While I enjoy the sunshine and the lazy times on the deck and visiting with friends without any sense of urgency, I’m now ready for something new, a new beginning.
I’ve been growing some baby Redwood trees for a friend, potting them up and watering and misting them on the hot days, getting them ready for my friend’s new grove. Now that I’ve delivered them, I’m out of sorts without the daily routine of checking on them. I need a new garden project, and I’m finding that such a list is easy to make, and that my “spare time” will likely be fully taken up with new projects. Such is the excitement of a new year, a fresh start, and new resolutions for a new season, a new year.
My own redwoods have had a good summer, growing two to three feet, spreading out and growing up. They are enjoying the recent fog and drizzle, and settling in to be part of my emerging forest. My “tree kids” are growing up and I am sad to admit my role of “Tree Dad” is winding down.
Yet, the real growers of the summer are the Himalayan blackberries, sending out long thorny runner vines, complete with extra sharp thorns and a desire to take over the neighborhood. I make it a point now to take my pruning shears with me everywhere, given Ms. Himalaya’s propensity to seemingly grow several feet overnight. I’ve had dreams where I come back to my house after a trip and find that the vines have started to engulf the house and snake out into the road, covering everything with their thorniness and desire for world domination. It could be a theme for a Stephen King book.
I see new beginnings in our community, too. New construction, new businesses, and a new energy of optimism and opportunity. This year, there seems to have been an enjoyable surge of art shows and musical events. Old buildings, dilapidated and left to decay, are seeing new attention, and a renewed hope for something exciting and vibrant. I’m seeing new foot traffic, new customers wandering around, and enjoying the new energy of what had been tired downtowns.
There’s some new non-profits and other community groups on the move, starting new events, bringing energetic volunteers with fresh ideas. I see a lot of pride, a lot of energy for positive change.
This renaissance is also literally springing from the ground up. Improvements to our basic transportation infrastructure are being constructed, with new fish-friendly bridges and culverts. Fresh paving and new housing are bringing a sense of vitality and hope for the future. Our state parks are scheduled for long needed major renovation and rehabilitation in the coming year. The new Cape Meares loop road is a bright shining gem. I hear optimism and hope in nearly every conversation.
When I drive through the forest, I notice new logging patterns and practices, designed to enhance the innovative forestry projects of a more diverse and vigorous timberland. Like other industries in our community, forestry is embracing new scientific practices and looking to a sustainable future for one of our most valuable resources. While there are still the political conversations, loggers and foresters are out there, doing the work that needs to be done, nurturing a better, more diverse forest of our future.
My visits to the library invigorate me with all the new books, community programs, and cultural events in the new library park and in all of our community libraries. There is a movement to celebrate new ideas, and look at the world with fresh eyes. I am delighted to be inundated with the sounds of happy kids mobbing the children’s library, and checking out armloads of books.
Concerts and music jams are now regular events, becoming commonplace and just an accepted happening on a summer’s evening. While there is a lot of chatter in our country about the influence of social media and “screen time”, I also see a lot of community gatherings and fellowship. Meeting halls and annual festivals are well promoted and well attended.
It’s a new year, and I’m happy to see all the energy and innovation.