164. Zucchini

So, this morning I’m sitting at my table just after Thanksgiving. It is snowing lightly and looking a little more like Christmas than Thanksgiving. Nevertheless, I’ve been going through my list of gratitude and I hit upon summer squash, especially zucchini. I haven’t picked any from my garden for six weeks and I had enough at that point that I certainly don’t want to buy any from the store because it’s the season of pumpkin and winter squash. But the spiciness of a nice zucchini bread seems like something for autumn or winter and because we had so much of the summer squash in August and September I have plenty in the freezer for that. While I may not be grilling zucchini at this time of year, I have plenty of zucchini relish to put on my hot dogs or hamburgers that I can still grill on the patio even when it is snowing.

We live in an era where you can buy food from anywhere in the world, so if you want watermelon in November you can have watermelon from South America in Idaho in November. But for the most part I’m a traditionalist. If I’m going to have zucchini at this time of year it’s going to be preserved from summer. That, of course, means I’m going to be eating zucchini bread and zucchini relish at this time of year. I like that. I think that’s the traditional idea of Thanksgiving: gratitude for the harvest that will allow you to survive another winter and early spring.

This year, because my freezer is full of frozen summer squash and my cupboard is full of preserved summer squash I have one more thing from the harvest for which to give thanks. And even in other years when I might not have so much summer squash—that little squash that Americans and Italians call zucchini while the French and British call them courgettes—I am thankful for it. I love that little saying that if you don’t have zucchini you don’t have friends. I’m thankful that I have both. 

163. Hummingbirds

I plant flowers in pots around the porch and in flower beds around the house. I have annuals and perennials and I enjoy them, not just for their beauty, but also for their ability to attract bees, butterflies and hummingbirds. I especially enjoy the hummingbirds that seem plentiful in the late afternoons and early evenings of August and September. They especially enjoy the petunias—red and purple petunias. They will also hover in front of me for a few moments if I’m walking across the grass or if I have a bright red t-shirt on. I guess the color of the shirt piques their curiosity. I love it when they just hover in front of my face and look at me. Of course, it’s never for very long, but when it happens time pauses briefly and two sentient beings closely observe one another. I have no idea if those tiny little birds are as grateful for me as I am for them, but I do enjoy their presence and that they would pause and recognize me in their constant movement is a blessing inexpressible.

I can’t typically tell one type of hummingbird from another, though I do search books and the internet to see if I can identify them. Perhaps that’s what they’re doing when they’re hovering and looking at me. I do know that in my part of the world the Black Chinned, Rufous, and Calliope are the most common in summer. They are considerably smaller than their cousins I’ve seen in winter in the Bay Area of California which were bigger and darker. But you can always tell a hummingbird from another bird because of its tiny size, its quick flight, and then the ability, unlike any other bird, to hover while at a flower or at a feeder or while observing someone or something. They always seem to be on the go and it is a rare occasion, indeed to see one sitting on a limb or wire. When you see that, don’t bother trying to photograph it because it will last mere seconds and unless you already have the camera prepared, the bird will fly away.

They are amazing little creatures unlike any other bird and I am so grateful for their presence.

162. Food Abundance

While it may be true that there are many people in the US who are food insecure, as a nation we are food abundant. I don’t live in a wealthy community but it is an agricultural community that gets its livelihood from farming and timber. Right now, during the pandemic we have sporadically closed and reopened various businesses, but we still (with federal assistance) are able to feed all of our children through our school closures. Our local food bank remains open for business and is taking care of our community members who are now dealing with food insecurity.

Personally, I have noticed that we, as a family, have filled our pantry and freezer with enough food to get us through the winter and any possible temporary closures of businesses. We will be able to celebrate Thanksgiving and share our bounty with others because there is not a food shortage in our country. After necessary quarantining our immediate family will be able to gather and have the traditional American harvest celebration with turkey and all the traditional trimmings that go with that dinner.

I know that doesn’t cover all the food insecurity and I think it’s a little crazy how everyone does not have enough to eat when our country is a regular cornucopia. While I’m thankful that we, as a nation, have all this food, I also think we need to work to share what we have with those who don’t. There are all kinds of organizations that help to feed those of us who don’t have enough food or who are struggling right now in this economic downturn and the pandemic. Consider giving to one such organization in your community if you have the means. I really believe that gratitude is something to share and that’s a big part of these blog entries. This is the season to give thanks and I am so thankful that I and my family have enough to eat and the means to share some of that. I won’t be able to have a big gathering for Thanksgiving but I can still share and I plan on doing just that.

 

161. Cool Summer Mornings

There are certain negative aspects in the US when an electoral cycle ends and new offices are filled. I felt the last four years to be crazy, but the two choices for President were not so great. That, and a Time magazine article focusing on good things gave me purpose in my blog. So I continue to write about things for which I am grateful. Gratitude is what make life worth living, so I continue to share that here.

The chill of this morning at a brisk 12F is a huge contrast to the experiences I felt just a short few weeks ago when summer was rounding the corner into autumn. Then the morning was cool and I would step outside with my coffee and listen to the birds sing. I could watch them in the sunflowers of the garden, flowers which were still blooming in bright yellows. The contrast with this morning’s frigid chill and the seed heads remaining of my sunflowers could not be more stark. Yet still the birds are feeding on the seeds that remain in those sunflower heads.

While part of me is content with this early window into winter, I will miss those cool summer mornings that have a way of separating themselves from the day’s later oppression of heat. There is something that separates the sanctity of a summer morning from the other seasons. Part of it is that it was the sun that woke me. Part of it is the birdsong when doves coo to one another. And part of it is simply the natural cool separate from the rest of the day.

Something about a cool summer morning is just as fresh as was the entire experience of living when I was a child. There are few preconceived notions about how things should be, they are all just beautiful the way the are without comparatives, let alone superlatives. The world is new and beautiful, your mind is clear of sullied thoughts of cold, anguish, or any troubles of the day. Behold, all things are new.

Yes, there is still beauty and newness in the mornings of autumn, winter, and spring, but they often are dark and cold and you have to build a fire or wear a heavy coat. Those mornings require something of you, but the cool of a summer morning asks only that you observe and feel its beauty unsullied by any cares.

160. Sturdy Construction

I live in a house that was built over 100 years ago in 1910. The construction is solid and I appreciate that. It was built to last and so it has. I know it was put up in haste as the foundations of the town of Potlatch were put into place, but the construction is solid and the people who have cared for it over the last 110 years have kept it solid, remodeled it in tasteful ways and caused it to have its own unique look apart from its cookie cutter neighbors. We have also just had built an adjacent garage and patio with a connecting deck.

Americans typically take pride in their building construction and you can trust our buildings to last. We have put codes in place to honor stability and to protect people from faulty construction. I realize that sometimes those codes seem onerous but they insure solid, safe construction. That has been true throughout the centuries as my own home stands as a testament. I appreciate that pride in construction and the workmanship that goes along with it—construction that withstands the ravages of time and storms.

Of course, there have obviously been some shoddy constructed buildings in the history of the country but most of those have fallen into disrepair or been completely destroyed. I know when you go to buy a home in this country you will know how sound the building is because it will have to pass inspection before you will be able to get a loan to finance it. Houses on the Gulf coast are built to withstand heavy winds. Houses in the Midwest are built to protect so if a tornado hits they will have a storm cellar. Homes on the west coast are built to withstand earthquake tremors. While certainly no building is made to withstand all the ravages of time and weather, Americans seem to work hard to insure the construction is sturdy and that our buildings are shelter in times of trouble and comfort in times of need. This isn’t true everywhere so I’m thankful that we Americans have sturdy construction that provides us with safety and comfort.