A Year of Noticing - Day 38
Migration reflections
This morning was the first morning that I really noticed a bone-chilling cold, with brisk winds that made me grateful to have gloves, scarf and a hat! It really felt like the “bundling up” season has started and both my children mentioned that their noses felt cold this morning - yep, it feels like the seasons have officially shifted!
As we were crossing the bridge, we looked up to notice a large flock of geese flying south. I suppose these might be some of the last to leave… ones that were still enjoying the warm weather earlier this week, and now are also acknowledging that it really is time to move on and make their migration!
Today I also noticed a junco on the front walkway of a neighbour’s house and it made me wonder if this was one that might be sticking around, or if it will be migrating soon too?
Today, as I noticed the geese migrating, and the juno (who wasn’t yet migrating), it made me think back to my great-grandparents who migrated to Canada in 1926 (my maternal grandfather’s parents). They left behind most of their family when they fled Siberia in the springtime of 1926, and my great-grandmother’s family was planning to leave after the harvest. As my grandfather tells in a video recorded in late 2014, just a month before he died, he retells the story of their migration but that by the end of the harvest season that year the Communists had “shut the door” and no one was able to leave any more. My grandfather was a in utero during that trip, and was born four months after my great-grandparents arrived on Canadian soil.
Unlike the flocks of geese, who for generations seem to follow similar migration journeys - the migration journey of my great-grandparents was somewhat unexpected and what they chose for survival - without their courage, I wouldn’t be here! There is so much both that I know and that I don’t know about their migration story… and it is one that fascinates me the more I learn!
I re-watched the recording of my grandfather that my aunt and cousins made just weeks before he died, and they finished by asking him what advice he has for the next generation (his grandchildren and great-grandchildren). He pondered quietly for a few moments before responding, “Be yourself.”
Thank you grandpa for the sage advice. As I noticed this one maple tree, still full of vibrant, colourful leaves while many others have dropped their leaves I thought about how plants and trees, just do what they do and are what they are. I have heard someone say before, an oak tree doesn’t wish it were a maple tree, just as a maple tree doesn’t wish it were an oak tree… they are just “being themselves”. This tree isn’t worried that it still has leaves while others don’t, or that it is “too bright” or “too vibrant”… it just is! Today I am appreciating the wisdom of the trees, being rooted and grounded in who they are - showing up fully… and modelling how we might just “be ourselves” - true and authentic to our core, to our roots, and growing in our own unique way.