I took my dog for an hour long walk today and saw 5 people. Two of them were workmen, and one was a farmer in a distant field so I’m not sure he counts. The other two are neighbours who are committed to their daily walk. Sometimes we stop and chat, other times we stick to our exercise.
In my old hood, I couldn’t get away from all the people I knew. If I walked one city block, on average, I would see 5 people I knew. Knowing me, I’d probably stop and chat with all of them. I may need to go to the city just to roam the streets and see people.
Sometimes I love not seeing a soul around here. There is a sense of freedom when you are alone, and you can only hear the birds. Other times you just feel alone.
The last two days, we have woken up to frost on the grass and icy puddles. Winter is on it’s way. There is a handful of expatriates here. We all left Toronto around the same time and this will be our first rural winter. We are all a little concerned about making it through. Isolation, and boredom are common themes to our conversations when we speak of winter. Will we survive?
Well, of course we will. We just want to survive well enough so that we will want to be here next winter.
We’ve all made an informal pact. Keep in touch, be entertaining and entertain. I may not know them well, but we all came from the same place, and we moved here with similar notions. We all wanted to be less busy, and more free. Free to spend time with family and friends, have the time to make new friends, and have the space to hear the birds when we are completely alone.
All the tourists are gone. As it gets chillier, there are less visitors willing to make the drive. The snow birds are starting to flee south. We need to find our groove, and I’m counting on my new friends to get me through.