This Thanksgiving was
definitely a lot quieter than in the past with the number of positive Covid
cases going up and further (and somewhat confusing) restrictions placed on the city of Toronto. We
were strongly discouraged from visiting family members outside our household
and; restaurants, cinemas, casinos, performing arts, gyms, museums and racing venues
were closed once again for the next 28 days. While my family has continued to
be cautious about going anywhere, including school, many people have been
negatively impacted by this decision. Some have lost jobs, businesses, and
their livelihood. Others have lost their lives due to the illness itself. It is a hard time
for many people to find something to be thankful for. We continue to be
grateful for everyday that we have with each other and embrace every way that
we can celebrate being a family.
On Monday we decided to
go for a walk on Wilket Creek Trail, a nearby trail that I frequently run on.
This time of year it is beautiful with the leaves changing into vibrant colours
of red, yellow and orange. The smell is earthy and nostalgic and reminds
me of days past. I can remember raking leaves with my siblings and then
running and jumping into the piles we made, then coming inside to warm
ourselves with a cup of hot cocoa. Fall reminds me of the start of the school
year, and the promises that it held. Fall is also a powerful reminder of the
beautiful gifts nature brings us when we are willing to slow down and enjoy them.
After we parked our car
and headed to the trail, I was immediately gob-smacked by how many people had the same idea as us—which really shouldn’t have been a surprise at all. It
was a long weekend and with everything shut down and celebrations indoors
discouraged, of course everyone was going to head to the nearest park. I
usually run in the early hours of the morning, when most people are still
lollygagging in bed and there are few people on the trail, so I temporarily
forgot how busy they can get in the afternoon.
Cilla loves going for
hikes (probably as much as Dottie) and she was itching to stretch her legs.
Almost every weekend she would ask us if we were going on a hike. She took her
usual place at the front of our pack and bravely ran ahead—leading the way and
calling out things she saw that she thought were interesting.
Mature stands of Eastern
Hemlock, Sugar maple, American Beech, Red Oak and Hop Hornbeam stood majestic
on the valley walls, fighting to keep their place without tumbling to their
deaths into the creek below. They proudly displayed their various shades before
the leaves fell to the valley floor. The leaves crunched under our feet and
Cilla took every opportunity to run through the tiny pile that lay on the side
of the path.
There were numerous
bridges that crossed over creek beds and marshland that meandered throughout
the area before entering the Don River. Nearby cattails grew high and wild
ferns and grasses mingled amongst them.
I have a love-hate
relationship with the fall. There is something magical about this season with
the geese flying overhead as they pass on their way south, the leaves falling
off the trees, pumpkin carvings and Halloween and crispy apples from the autumn
harvest. However, this season is a precursor to my least-favourite season—a
season of bitter-cold; layers and layers of clothing; dampness, and darkness. I
tried to live in the moment and enjoy the gift that I have received with this
beautiful day, but as the days grow shorter, it will become harder to ignore
the inevitable.
When we arrived at
Edwards Gardens we couldn’t go any further as there were no dogs allowed in the
park, so we turned around to walk back. In the last kilometre, a light rain
decided to make an appearance with a gentle misting, but not enough to get us
soaking wet.
We had a lovely
thanksgiving weekend, even though it was a little different than usual. It’s
really important these days to embrace and celebrate the small things, whatever
they may be, but most of all enjoy being with family.
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